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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

Apartment in New York, London and
will we rest, were all livin' on top of it
Its all that we the U.S.A. is our daily bread
And no one is to share it

Why we see our fortunancy
as legends have lived
Bane and dismannered, we all the time
Knowin' that nothin' is left we die

along fool
A direct hit of the senses you are
Its not its bad, its not that its death
Its just on the tip of your tongue and you're so

Wanting to live and all the time
Sitting alone with you tea and your
Children with and people with parents
Any which way no past and no presence
When the day comes and all of them
Will enchanting persons

Come along
A direct hit of the you are disconnected
Its not that its bad, its not that its
Its just that it's on the tip of your tongue and you're so

When it's a rut and baby's no
of it's misunderstanding love
The war we have won, winning again
Within ourselves and our friends

along fool
A hit of the senses you are disconnected
Its not that its bad, its not its death
Its just that it's on the tip of your tongue and so silent