What I'm going to do
I don't know where I'm going
I don't have a place, not a place of any kind
where to cry by myself
I'm homeless, tired
Chased away, fallen
now only unknown gateaways and parks
will take me on their arms
so this street is gentle, it won't say
you screwed up everything by yourself
And this day won't end
the seconds won't disappear
my life is ugly
my thoughts are embarrassing
a head is turned away
by some random person
those who cry by themselves
are losers
What I'm going to do
I don't know where I'm going
so this street is gentle, it continues
as long as you walk
And this day won't end...
What I'm going to do
I don't know where I'm going
so this street is gentle, it continues
as long as you walk