when you're not here
the bed is empty
cold and desolate
frightning just to be in bed
all alone
the songs go thru my head
songs i know by heart
dreams are all that are real to me
and you
but you are just a dream
my bed is empty
nor will it be used
while the songs go thru my head
thinking of you
and nights so sad
songs i hear
no radio, no cd
just inside my head
i hear them
don't know if i should trust them
don't know if i should trust you
a dream of filth
just cheap lust
is there nothing real in this world ?
is it all invein
just plain old dust
trying to believe
but who to believe in
what to believe
the things that stay frigthen
what leaves can not be trusted
mahakala, man, 47 jaar
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