| At night I lie awake
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| And not a minute longer can I take
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| The voices I can hear
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| Chanting of my end, creeping near
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| Angel, spread your wings
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| How beautiful it sounds when sirens sing
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| Coming home
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| Coming home
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| To the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles
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| Tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles
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| I can hear them moan
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| In the wind so cold it cuts through flesh and bone
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| Now I am prey
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| They will come for me and I will have to pay
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| Angel, spread your wings
|
| How beautiful it sounds when sirens sing
|
| Coming home
|
| Coming home
|
| To the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles
|
| Tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles
|
| Kein Weg zurück
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| Kein Weg hinaus
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| Kein Weg zurück
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| Kein Weg hinaus
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| Kein Weg zurück
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| Kein Weg hinaus
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| Kein Weg zurück
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| Kein Weg hinaus
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| Beware — no false move
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| I don’t know why I have to reach the roof
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| And I run up the stairs
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| The steps all rotten, but I no longer care
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| Coming home
|
| Coming home
|
| Coming home
|
| To the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles
|
| Tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles
|
| Tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles
|
| Tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles
|
| Coming home
|
| Tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles
|
| Coming home
|
| Tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles
|
| To the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles
|
| Tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles, the tiles
|
| To the tiles, the tiles, the tiles |