Somewhere in the world my brother is sleeping He lies in a pile of wasted youth And I wake to the sound of my mother's weeping Nobody seems to know the truth
Now in through the window the morning light All of my nightmares it's breaking through Here in the suburbs the dogs will bite A job that their masters are loathe to do
Each morning I rise from this bed of nails To tend to the children got work to do The rains coming down in buckets and pails But somehow it seems to fit the moodTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
