I write a song
The bus going on
The time of a journey
Found ourselves alone
On plastic bags and falling trees
Hot tea reminds me of
Something that used to be
While everything goes unnoticed
Helpless as I try
To grasp the world
But it is only holding me down
Attached to faded memories
Don't even know they mean
Come back to look at what i've seen
Do not forget what once touched us
Do not forget what used to scare us
You cry because you are alone
You come from another planet not earth
You lie and cry, you disapoint everyone in your head
You drive the car always straight
Please turn stay with me
You cut my hair, my arms, my shirts
You turn the world
Into something that is not
Dead boys running around in circles
I take off salt from my cheeks
For when you return
We are so tired of having stomach ache
To play boring games
To show our identity
To the skyscrapers
To businessmen, to tobacconists
To the friends of God
We are so appreciated but not quite
Not quite, not quite