Sidekicks, cigarettes, empty jars
Rushing down cold boulevards
Blind nuns, street who*es, holy cows
Pick a rose with a loaded gun
I don't know what I'm doing here
Seems to me I'm just choking the fire
High speed, nosebleed, suicides
Fold the nights with a broken heart
Slack rope, dry hope, cheap glue
Memories cuts on this middle route
I don't know what I'm doing here
Seems to me I'm just choking the fire
My dear
Too many voices in my head
My friend
I'm sorry
Goodbye