What kind of life is this?
When all day we are surrounded by death,
And crazines, and fear, and worries,
We are surrounded by people ghosts,
By broken people, or masked people,
Full people dont exist, they are a myth,
How are we supposed to live like this,
Like nothing its going to get right, like
Always something wrong its going to happen and **** us more...
What kind of life is this?
Why are we so broken, so rotten,
We live like this, every day and keep going,
Some of us dont, some of us just keep brething, some are fightin better wars, or worse, so much worse, but we keep going..
I think i would never understand us.
Today a friend of mine isnt here anymore