There is... I don't know, there is something in the air
There is dust on our hands, there is dirt in our hair
And we're cold... So cold.
We don't ask ourselves if it's right or wrong
We just play along
We only wish we were strong
But we're old... So old.
A way to find you out of here
What was that? I don't know, I guess
Somebody killed a dream, somebody found the mess in their head... Their head
Smashed your head against the wall
Lost control
You're no machine after all
Your are dead... So dead.
All the words, all the words are grey
Just like solitary birds
In the night
And we can't, can't take everything back
We can't turn all this black into white.
There is blood on news, there is blood on your dreams
There is something so sad about your f***** up esteem
And we cry... Oh, cry
From the newborn, today, to the dead in the grave
The remote sets you free but you're still just a slave
Why? Oh, why?...
There is dust on our hands, there is dirt in our hair
And we're cold... So cold.
We don't ask ourselves if it's right or wrong
We just play along
We only wish we were strong
But we're old... So old.
A way to find you out of here
What was that? I don't know, I guess
Somebody killed a dream, somebody found the mess in their head... Their head
Smashed your head against the wall
Lost control
You're no machine after all
Your are dead... So dead.
All the words, all the words are grey
Just like solitary birds
In the night
And we can't, can't take everything back
We can't turn all this black into white.
There is blood on news, there is blood on your dreams
There is something so sad about your f***** up esteem
And we cry... Oh, cry
From the newborn, today, to the dead in the grave
The remote sets you free but you're still just a slave
Why? Oh, why?...