All the full moons are buried
under the pavements ***** feet are walking on,
and all the stars above are crying
but you can't hear them, can you?

Your tears are louder than the noise of the clouds breaking above your head
and children with no mothers are smashing benches in the parks
at 11 o'clock in the night,
but we both know that at that hour it's only your loneliness you care about.

People in the streets are haunting virtual monsters using their phones
while the real ones are eating the skin off their spines.
We are talking about wars and guns and all the **** going around
We want change, but, really, how much have you changed in the last three months?

Is it just me, or the world is really ****** up?

The cigarette is burning your fingers
and your lungs can't breath
because the air around you doesn't smell like the one you love.
Drown again your brain in alcohol,
hide all the lies in your pockets
and leave your hopes under the same pillow
your head will sleep on
seeing all the nightmares eating you alive.

One more glass of wine and you'll be fine
one more tear to spill on the regrets
another day is awaiting
the sun will rise again
and in the red clouds smiling in the morning
you'll only see the moon crying from beneath your feet.

At least you're alive,
I guess that's the only thing to be happy about.

Or is it?