Spending days in the fireplace,
burning, cracking, like red hot helpless coal.
Nights in loud noisy bars,
Turn up the volume Mr. DJ,
I don’t wanna hear myself.
burning, cracking, like red hot helpless coal.
Nights in loud noisy bars,
Turn up the volume Mr. DJ,
I don’t wanna hear myself.
Appreciating plastic and dark stone hearts.
Another drink please. A large.
I can still feel something.
Another dose of numbness please,
right up my swollen veins.
Seeing the city through red tinted, broken glasses.
Broken faces, wrecked bodies.
Always talking, always laughing, always running,
Surfing depression.
Its just between you and me Bombay.
Temme was this your liberation plan?
‘Coz they banned mercy killing?
