Schemes
Cut the sound, cut my tongue.
Get me down - underground!!
Take my hand.
This can't be life!
Can't take my past it's me
Just like the roots of a tree.
Left to depress with my head in my hands,
A desperate life, in search of sense.
The sound told me to go,
To put my shoes on for a stony road.
So I care to express with the world in my hands,
Trust my eyes, while.
We've been walking on the wrong roads, fake ideals,
White ribbons representative signs of an era still to come...
Left to depress, with my head in my hands,
Blood soaked eyes, lost again.
So I care to express with this world in my hands,
Trust my eyes, now I understand that
We all have our own little schemes.
Left to depress, with my head in my hands,
Blood soaked eyes - This can't be life!
No one should ever dare,
No one would ever care.
We all have our own little dreams,
We all have our own little schemes,
Fake!!
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