From:
Give away another memory
Move another truth
Painted words hooked on the walls
Echoing untrue
(I feel cold)
Promises abound
You rarely find them to begin
Maybe I'm afraid
To let you all the way in
(I guess so)
I excuse myself
I'm used to my little cell
I abuse myself
In my very own private hell
Lately I'm beside myself
Pretending unconcerned
Standing at a corner
Where I threw you on a turn
(I move on)
Flowers on the cross remain
Mark an ending scene
Dammit, all this blood you spilled
Turned the grass more green
(Life is short)
I excuse myself
I'm used to my little cell
I abuse myself
In my very own private hell
Translate to:
Give away another memory
Move another truth
Painted words hooked on the walls
Echoing untrue
(I feel cold)
Promises abound
You rarely find them to begin
Maybe I'm afraid
To let you all the way in
(I guess so)
I excuse myself
I'm used to my little cell
I abuse myself
In my very own private hell
Lately I'm beside myself
Pretending unconcerned
Standing at a corner
Where I threw you on a turn
(I move on)
Flowers on the cross remain
Mark an ending scene
Dammit, all this blood you spilled
Turned the grass more green
(Life is short)
I excuse myself
I'm used to my little cell
I abuse myself
In my very own private hell