This is the story of Marie
17 years, black hair, pierced and tatooed
She doesn't have any friends but maybe dreams...
Her fahter's beating her black and blue
Running away from home, she's looking for some sense
Finding only shit, junkies are becoming her friends
She's sniffing coke, smoking crack
a shadow play on the bad side of the street
She's missing the insight
she hasn't done anything
Her slogan stays shrill:
"I'm living my life how I want it to live"
Fuck! What the hell are you doing?
Wake up, Marie!
You gotta wake up, Marie!
Marie's working on the street
not the slightest doubt...
Be a second full of doubt
and it can be over
Screams and crys silently only for her to hear
Promising herself: "I'm never gonna do that again"
Doesn't keep it long, just over again
The prick of a needle, just so short a pain
Has this been her last shot?
She's lying on the asphalt
has dreamed her life to be so good
I wish that she find's her happiness now
Marie, come back!
Fuck! You're going to make it!
You gotta wake up, Marie
You gotta finally wake up, Marie
She's still blinking
A last moment long
Nobody's hearing her scream like that
The image blurs - the lights are red
Clonsing the eyes - Marie is...
dead.
I'll keep thinking of you, Marie!
We'll keep thinking of you, Marie!
You gotta finally wake up, Marie