33 acessos
I feel the ground, the ground is my place
I hit the ground, it’s right on my face…
Who wants to smile, but the lips won’t move?
Who realised that they’re not that good?
Who’s so relaxed lying in the mud?
And still keeping the same perfume?
I feel the ground, the ground is my place
I hit the ground, it’s right on my face
They will let us drown
But who will complain about fate?
Oh, let’s all complain about fate…