Mom, it's ok, are you afraid of your own blood?
Listen, I'll be fine, has always been
I hear about old friends who die in bed
Me who has left memories remaining which I thought I had left in the town
At the center during the night waiting for somebody who never came
Should have met at town hall's staircase but somebody started a misunderstanding
Every evenings and nights there at Körberg beach
You looked like you were made of light, it was before you disappeared
Promise that you'll shoot me if I ever become like them
Remembering how you stood there in the doors while I stood under the rain and in mud
I know that you have shit there inside you which hurts a lot
We are born in debts, forced to pay someone's else
Nothing is forgotten yet, would have forgotten you otherwise
Promise that you'll shoot me if I ever become like them
If I ever become like them