How many nights,
How many nights of caving in the suburbs, depression, Van Gogh.
One piece is missing and it's driving me mad.
The missing piece is making me crazy.
Everyone goes to the sea to relax.
I go because it's as far as I can get.
To think of greater things than you and me;
Beyond the narrowness that wraps me for months.
Let me fill up; give me all you have to offer.
Debauchery nights aren't giving me pleasure.
I'd like to go anyway, take me out anyway.
First there's a limb and then there's a knife.
A connection I wish I never have found.
You'll be recognized, oh, after you die.
Now get off to the street and have a decent cry.
Just give me a call and tell me it's fine.
Tell me that maybe you could still be mine.
But don't pa** me by as if you are not the only girl I have ever loved.
Let me fill up; give me all you have to offer.
Debauchery nights aren't giving me pleasure.
I'd like to go anyway, take me out anyway.
Beats of burden. Beats of slumber.
Debauchery nights aren't giving me pleasure.
This is why I stay at home. This is exactly why I stay at home.
How many more nights will I be looking for other words for misery?