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Tekst: |
Like thin glass, in a world of concrete lives a man unknown to the world. Same world that refused him succeed in life in witch he was thrown. He walks those empty stairs. Tired, weak, never strong. He's convinced that despite he's absence, still the steps and world goes on. Like thin film perforated by memories. Preserved in alcohol. Took only one sip to escape what he been. But it left his mind dissolved. He walks those empty stairs. Tired, weak, never strong. He's convinced that despite he's absence, still the steps and world goes on. I will not reconsider that I'm to blame. I will not reconsider that life can change. I will not reconsider that I'm to blame. I will not reconsider my lack of flames. I will no longer consider my self as sane. Tonight, when the sun disappears into foreign lands, his hands they'll shake an involuntary rhythm. At night, when the moon allows his shadow on concrete walls, he'll fall and is never to be found. He'll fall. Alone. In death he falls alone. |
