sábado, 3 de diciembre de 2011

There is a smell of stale fear that is reeking from our skins,
the drinking never stops because the drinks absolve our sins.
We sit and grow our roots into the floor,
but what are we waiting for?

So give me something to believe,
cause I'm living just to breathe.
And I need something more
to keep on breathing for,
so give me something to believe.