I wrote a letter to hell (I hope, you've read it): "What's the matter, dear friend? Where's your spirit? When you talk about love, you try to understand it. You are gloomy, you are passive, you are out of your head.. You're afraid of feelings, you're afraid to cool down. You're so young, my baby - just relax and have fun"
Boys, boys, boys and real friend Who can give you a shelter When your life seems to end Boys, boys, boys and real friend Who can give you a shelter When your life seems to end
"My blond-haired friend, you're so damn right: I'm really afraid to loose this delight!.. What is worse - I think, I've already lost it. I'm such a man..
I am studying I am running I am sleeping I am laughing I'm composing I am writing I am dreaming I am crying I am walking down the street I'm so damn fed up with it!"
Boys, boys, boys and real friend Who can give you a shelter When your life seems to end Boys, boys, boys and real friend Who can give you a drink, Take your body home, Pack your things, pack your "Fender" And explain all to mom, Buy two tickets to plane To set up at dawn To become "new Elvis" And find a new home..