| «Molly is dead and the birds have gone south,»
|
| Said the joker to the thief
|
| «My nerves are live wire, and I’m burning on fire
|
| Got a paper in my pocket and a coupon for a cup of peace
|
| Truly there was nothing that we really lacked
|
| Except the feeling of alive
|
| That’s why I turned to art, that’s how you got to jail
|
| And now you’re out on bail, fairytale, searching for the Holy Grail
|
| And closer to the truth, than the kettle to the stove
|
| And the moment that I noticed that I didn’t wanna know
|
| I got a pain in my heart, a burn in my throat
|
| They go down to my belly, got a bullet of a load
|
| I got an ache in my head, my confidence broke
|
| Got a lot of lost time on the shoes of my soul, yeah"
|
| «Jesus, joker,» said the thief, «This can’t be my life
|
| Oh, something’s been thrown, like an arrow or a stone
|
| Now the solitude is warmer and I’d rather be alone
|
| We lost our friends to the everyday
|
| To the drugs and the dreams
|
| To the girls in the bars, the boys in the cars
|
| When your shitty little love life reaches just to the horizon
|
| And you’re closer to the truth, than the kettle to the stove
|
| And the moment that I noticed that I didn’t wanna know
|
| I got a pain in my heart, a burn in my throat
|
| They go down to my belly, got a bullet of a load
|
| I got an ache in my head, my confidence broke
|
| Got a lot of lost time on the shoes of my soul
|
| Yeah, the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t really a light
|
| If we got any closer we would find that it’s only a mirror
|
| Reflecting our search lamps, here in the darkness, here in the homeland
|
| We’ll always be searching for permanence in quicksand
|
| And frenzied collecting things that we just can’t hold
|
| But we will hang on with our teeth"
|
| «Molly is dead and the birds have gone south,»
|
| Said the joker to the thief
|
| «My nerves are live wire and I’m burning on fire
|
| Got a paper in my pocket and a coupon for a cup of peace
|
| Truly there was nothing that we really lacked
|
| Except the feeling of alive
|
| That’s why I turned to art, that’s how you got to jail
|
| And now you’re out on bail, fairytale, searching for the Holy Grail
|
| And closer to the truth, than the kettle to the stove
|
| And the moment that I noticed that I didn’t wanna know
|
| I got a pain in my heart, a burn in my throat
|
| They go down to my belly, got a bullet of a load
|
| I got an ache in my head, my confidence broke
|
| Got a lot of lost time on the shoes of my soul
|
| Yeah, the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t really a light
|
| If we got any closer we would find that it’s only a mirror
|
| Reflecting our search lamps, here in the darkness, here in the homeland
|
| We’ll always be searching for permanence in quicksand
|
| And frenzied collecting things that we just can’t hold" |