There's a story going around that the devil's residing in my eye
The nights are burning
The mornings [are] as cold as ice
That only hell is being happy with me
for others
Because it's never the turn for love here
And you know that, don't you?
It's not my fault
After you, the pain
tailored me poorly
Now there's no chance that I love again
That I remove the armor from this heart
Because I'm still
being broken down by phobias
of getting killed by the same caliber
Because I'm still
being broken down by phobias
of getting killed by the same caliber
Next to me
Only the wounded souls fall
Like I'm now
doing only evil
From that exact [woman]
That exact one who would've given everything for love
Not even
one percent remained
And you know that, don't you?
It's not my fault
After you, the pain
tailored me poorly
Now there's no chance that I love again
That I remove the armor from this heart
Because I'm still
being broken down by phobias
of getting killed by the same caliber
Because I'm still
being broken down by phobias
of getting killed by the same caliber