The walls of our house are thinner than paper The roof is a vapor that hangs in the air And our wedding bed is made from the same stuff our bodies are made of
If no heavy breath blew up these lungs While dirt and wet spit hung a ghost in the air Well, we're still here
While kids and their friends make war by the fire Their old men retire to drink and do drugs You long for the truth We argue about it But most of us doubt it can ever be found
Is a ship without a captain just as doomed as a ship without a crew? 'Cause of all my friends who try to tell the truth There are still a faithful few Who insist they won't know what to do
If no heavy breath blew up these lungs While dirt and wet spit hung a ghost in the air Well, we're still here Well, we're still hereTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
