Hey God, I'm picking up the splinters,
Take a look at them: just glass, not gold.
Am I the cleaner of your failures,
Just another one to fill the world?
It all repeats, it all is fated,
When you cope with this, it comes again...
The code of program isn't perfect,
I'll reload it with a bullet in my brain.
I've been crawling, breaking nails,
This dirt, I've eaten it enough,
And when I walk up to my fate,
Will someone stand behind?
Hey God, I need my fifteen minutes
And the place where I can scream at last.
I got so little time to waste it
While it's running out and turning into dust...
I've been crawling, breaking nails,
This dirt, I've eaten it enough,
And when I walk up to my fate,
Will someone stand behind?
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© Copyright: Мартин Скорцени, 2019
Свидетельство о публикации №119031300039
Свидетельство о публикации №119031300039
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