No, I don't like what I see
outside my window
everyone thinks for themselves
I watch them running all day long
they work so hard
to convert air into clouds
of smoke
So the color of my eyes is like the coldest winter
Cannot run the risk of smiling
Some days ago I took
a walk around here
and I met a friend of mine: he'd been
put up for sale
Saw my mate trapped in a cage
they call a shop window
From that day on I started deeply breathing the smoke
So the color of my eyes is like the coldest winter
Cannot run the risk of smiling
too much
And the smell of my skin makes me like a tasty prey, now
I can't run the risk of talking
They'd cut me off
So the color of my eyes is like the coldest winter
Cannot run the risk of telling
the truth
And the smell of my skin makes me like the tastiest prey, now
I can't run the risk of talking
They'd cut me off
They'd cut me off

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