He is a kid who lives inside an old and tired body
He is those grey and lonely eyes
Of a quiet old man full of cries.
He is a kid, so sick and tired of the old mans tales of war.
He’s a nostalgic old man wishing for his past to come again.
He’s the incurable daydreamer-kid who draws his future in the sand.
He is a lazy bastard in his teens (today!)
Who wants to write a love play,
To save the world, or to destroy it,
Who wants to sing, and dance, and fall asleep
Under the hot sun on a field.
He loves clichés
He longs for greatness, love and freedom.
Or maybe he is non of the above.
He hates clichés, the world repels him,
Love and songs and dances..
..that’s just so desgusting!
..he knows there’s no such thing.
He is a lonely, empty barrell
Still waiting for the rain to pour.
He is a dumb-ass genious with no herd
Just knowing all the truths that hurt.