3 décembre 2006
Sunday's night fever
I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel,
I focus all the pain, the only thing that's real,
The needle tears a hole, the old familiar stain,
Try to kill it all away, but I remember everything.
What have I become, my sweetest friend,
Everyone one I know, goes away in the end,
And you could have it all, my empire of dirt,
I will let you down, I will make you hurt.
I wear this crown of thorns, upon my liars chair,
Full of broken thoughts, I cannot repair,
Beneath the stains of time, the feelings disappear,
You are someone else, I am still right here.
What have I become, my sweetest friend,
Everyone one I know, goes away in the end,
And you could have it all, my empire of dirt,
I will let you down, I will make you hurt.
If I could start again, a million miles away,
I will keep myself, I would find a way.
Monsieur Johnny Cash, Hurt
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