Coming home in the frozen sunset, and I don’t even know, what to do.
Someone smoking a strong cigarette, while the wind is passing me through.
Coming home all alone with a bottle of beer.
People think that I’m stoned, but I just feel good, my dear.
Sitting down with my pretty;
Feeling free, while I’m doing wrong.
Sitting down, have no pity
In the land of the unheard song.
You can say there is nothing inside, suggest to open your eyes.
You are waiting for cleansing light, and I’m tired to bare these lies.
Coming home all alone with a bottle of beer.
People think that I’m stoned, but I just feel good, my dear.
Sitting down with my pretty;
Feeling free, while I’m doing wrong.
Sitting down, have no pity
In the land of the unheard song.
Of the unheard song
Of the unheard song
Of the unheard song