…sorrow faces, its for you a new game, you really make the suffer laye on their beds, you really i guess fed your old friends, like some guy, you are just present, when you get layed, its really not any kind of love, you like sex and money, i ts enough for you and your friends, who get the kick of it.…

…You made a mess and now my heart is an open wound Oh no How do we save something when there's nothing left to lose? Oh, oh And when you're there, don't care I know it's just ain't right I told myself from the start that…

…You play a fruit game, when I come, you smell good, when i kiss you to your mouth. you are restless like always, you need freedom like everyone else. You are like a star with your new jeans, you are socializing with your neeze, you are strong and joyfull like always, you illuminate our evenings always.…

…of time, to see them, happy homes are, somewhere else. You are all cruel to the women, you see it later, when you have the need of the families, you really no tplay along at all, you take care of all your needs, it doenst really matter who fills it. Its all you and your self, the ego is like god, you dont see yourself.…

…then So if you love me, yeah-eah It's so hard to go on When the magic is gone Like in the movies that we like No happy ending without a fight Yeah, I know we had doubt Can we work it all out? And maybe I'm naive But baby…

…Yes, I was playing some troubadour shows in Playa de las Americas, Tenerife, Canary Islands last christmas when this girl came to me and said she really loved my shit. Especially the Rodhouse blues. I was playing…

…second base, to start a new race. How can you really like it all, you are keen on women, so there must be many of them, you must select better, they really cant life family lifes, they are too jealouse, of everything, 'and…

…life, your just arrange it, like the dog fights, You all have to inform this kind of things to police, you dont need to do nothing, you just google things, you are playing, with the pain and violance, some other people…

…The end. The songwriter's dead. The blade fell upon him Taking him to the white lands Of Empathica Of Innocence Empathica Innocence The dreamer and the wine Poet without a rhyme A widowed writer torn apart by chains…