I have a desire
To see my life in bed
Like a fixed idea
Every time someone tells me
The wound is that :
It's because it grows too quickly
Weeds are harmful
That's when an idea comes to me:
To feel sorry for myself
[Chorus]:
It's my luck
I suffer quietly
I wait for my pain
His mouth is so sweet
I feel like a desire
To see my life in bed
Like a fixed idea
Which pursues me at night - at night - at night
I savor the night
L 'idea of u200bu200beternity
The weed harms
Because it never dies
When everything is gray
Pain is my friend
A long acid suicide
I love you melancholy
Feeling that leads me to infinity
Mixture of the worst, of my desire,
I love you melancholy
When everything is gray
Sorrow is my friend
I have a damp soul too
My whole being capsizes
Oh come please
She's your friend too
She's the elixir of my delusions
I love you melancholy
I feel like I want to see my life in the air
Every time someone tells me
It's bad luck
And I say:
A born savage
Worth to be esteemed
After all she often fucks up
Too many well cultivated, and OCD!
[Chorus]
I have something like an idea
Of morality
Like a sad idea
But who never dies
In short it is this:
To please the jealous
You have to be ignored
But there, but there, but there, for the suddenly
It was God who planted me, then?

KORREKTUREN ÃœBERMITTELN