Oh, your words leave me so cold
or you don't let me understand you
Your kind is fucked up
mine is, too
He can't be indifferent to it
If he gives, he doesn't take the same
He must have left a minimum of pride
or just a rest of nothing
But it's hard to believe, it's hard to understand
that the poor guy doesn't care
if noone remembers him after death.
His face is lost, his mind is sold
He doesn't laigh at anyone anymore
Noone feels pity through his tone
Noone does so more than him
because he doesn't think of anyone
But it's hard to believe, it's hard to understand
that the poor guy doesn't care
if noone remembers him after death
if noone remembers him after death
No, I tell him no
I tell people like you no