Thinking of the past I feel my life Is slipping by at such a speed Things I knew have gone and those I loved I look for granted and deceived Call me anything you will I'll hide behind a purple pill And though it seems I'm laughing still I'm crying Looking from my window I see winter Almost too bare to believe People change with seasons And I wonder if it's my turn to receive But they avoid the things I ask Or quickly change their style of mask The faith I had is fading fast I'm dying Seems to me the only way to be Is like a business man And have bad colours round my head Getting drunk to find some peace of mind and consolation But there's still the problem of what happens when I'm deadTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
