This old man looks so sad
The hollow glance at the floor
Hands shaking
The lack of sense
Pain of conscience
Rude awakening
Who could imagine that
He did something bad

Slowly he approaches the door
City folks lore
Deeper than Hollywood
Cheap drama store

The wind takes his hat
The rush makes he look like a rat
Tired, lonely
Trapped in rusted cage bars

Sour taste of the gift of life
Anxiety, the most faithful wife
For a bottle of *****
He strives
Amidst sands of despair
In the desert of remorse

The subway of broken dreams
Like a purgatory it seems
To make people face
Their innermost sins...

Maybe this is just a big lie
But the old man exists
And the image of hands shaking
Insists.