| Stroll to the cafe
|
| My God how time flies
|
| I close up my brain
|
| And another friend dies
|
| I feel like a mirror
|
| Feel like nothing is mine
|
| I could go back to crying
|
| But now dying seems fine
|
| So I hang from the ceiling
|
| Or I sit on the air
|
| Or rot in a corner
|
| Until somebody cares
|
| Faces at random
|
| I quote people I knew
|
| I’d love to be like me
|
| If I could feel like you
|
| Here am I, more roche five than pain
|
| Here am I, just me and my walls to blame
|
| Here am I, I really don’t feel quite sane
|
| Here am I, still searching for my shadow in vain
|
| Lock my door I only think in black and white
|
| I’ll even try to look ashamed
|
| Moving out of central
|
| Somebody knows me well
|
| Says he’ll spill the whole story
|
| He may be lying I can’t tell
|
| Meet me inside
|
| I’ll keep my head to the floor
|
| And one hand on the handle
|
| Of the mad/sane door
|
| Here am I, more roche five than pain
|
| Here am I, just me and my walls to blame
|
| Here am I, I really don’t feel quite sane
|
| Here am I, still searching for my shadow in vain
|
| Lock my door I only think in black and white
|
| I’ll even try to look ashamed
|
| My shadow in vain
|
| My shadow in vain
|
| My shadow in vain
|
| My shadow in vain
|
| My shadow in vain |