Sweet taste of collusions, don't see all your f**ing sh**. Sweet taste of exceptions -
„Might see it coming to an end.”
Sweet smell of combustions, might see burning skies away. Sweet smell of pollutions -
„Might see it coming to an end.”
Becoming what I'm living for, becoming what I am. I don't know what I'm looking for, but sure for none of you
I can't stand what you guys always do. The truth be told, l'd not stand losing you
Becoming what is finally me: a "junkie - wannabe". I feel addicted to only you. I'm begging on my knees
I know where you hide, I know where you're from. I know you and everything and everyone
Sweet taste of freedom. Might see it coming to an end