He likes to dream about it.
He calls him self the boy next door.
At least he likes to think he´s got it.
It looks like life finally invited
him and the sun to dance across the floor.
He´s learned to breath without it.
We´re young.
We´re too young to die....
The tears of love we gave, when thoughts were going the other way.

And they keep telling us these lies, how we should live our lives?
Sometimes it seems impossible,
To find this young modern love.
But don´t hold your breath too long
‘Cause some say, life has more to show.
They like to dream about it, like the wind picks up the falling leaves at Fall.
And know they both scream in silence.
We´re young.
We´re too young to die....
She stops and stares at violent colors
intstead of going to bed.
As she knows she should
She´s read this book sbout it.
Like that little French movie she saw last fall.
And now she screams in silence.
Breath, darling breath now.
Just breath, darling breath now
Breath...