Из альбома: The Night of Nights
I wake up and I feel I was stranded
In a world that hardly represents me
Step by step I collect all my nightmares
Like a modern Renoir I'm painting my life away
Don't you think that I'm not gonna worry
Don't you think that I don't feel sorry
Soon I'll find my way and I'll let you know
Sitting down in my room I feel so empty
Staring with lonely eyes at the words I am laying down
With cold blood I swallow all the absinthe that you gave me
That cold winter night
Don't you think that I'm not gonna worry
Don't you think that I don't feel sorry
Soon I'll find my way and I'll let you know
I feel a decadent poet
Forced to bury his art – forced to bury his own heart
Under the mud of a pigsty
A cabal of murdered broken hearts
Longing for my bitter taste
Lost you, I have lost you, brother
The strength you hid inside your eyes
Makes me believe I can still live my life
I learned from the ashes
Of the tears I dropped for all these years
My love is now living, is living for real
I feel a decadent poet
Forced to bury his art – forced to bury his own heart
Under the mud of a pigsty
A cabal of murdered broken hearts
Longing for my bitter taste