Searching for a mode and for a method.
What´s he thinking and what the fuck is he saying?
And does it matter anyway?
"Never again..." I begin to think,
as the liquid seeps in and the agony escapes my lungs.
The simple concept of trust.
You can´t take back some mistakes.
You´ve come to see me, now I know that my life must end.
And while I may be forgotten, there will be no forgiveness.
You´ve come to see me, now I know that my life must end.
Searching for mode or motivation... what was I thinking?
Dreaming in dog years.
And though I may be forgotten, there will be no forgiveness.
You´ve come to see me, now I know that my life must end.
Be it seven seconds or seven years,
it doesn´t matter when you´re dreaming in dog years.
Just like the kiss that condemned christ,
it was such a pity to throw what we had away Dreaming.
Now, I´m not afraid to die.
Just like the kiss that condemned christ, what a pity.
You threw it all away. Dog years.
Now I´m not afraid to die.
There´s nothing left. Dreaming.
Splitting headaches and random thoughts...what matters anyways?
Hypertension? Diabetes?
I had it all, now I can´t feel my legs.
I heard the metal clank, and Guy just sold out good ole´ Bud.
And it´s not gonna be all right.
And it´s not going to be "ok."