Orpha - Sad Youth | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Orpha
• Sad Youth

We are on the bottom of Bukowski's glass.
Are we dead? Are we death?
We are sick bleeding lungs.
No justice. No laughter. Just numb.

Our eyes have adjusted to the darkness,
to the cold room in the glow of cement.
Our madness is kept in the purple surface
of exhausted skin and hearts.

Each subdued despaired voice
burns veins with anxiety.
Each black letter is
the faith of sad youth.

The loneliness is our best friend.
Blue nights. Red eyes. Black days.
We are sad youth.