My Manic And I

(альбом: My Manic And I - 2007)

He wants to die in a lake in Geneva,
The mountains can cover the shape of his nose.
If he wants to die where nobody can see him,
But the beauty of his death will carry on so
I don't believe him.

He greets me with kisses
When good days deceive him
And sometimes with scorn
And sometimes I believe him
And sometimes I'm convinced that my friends think I'm crazy
I get scared and call him but he's usually hazy.

At one in the morning the day has not ended
By two he is scared that sleep is no friend
And by four he will drink but he cannot feel it
Sleep will not come because sleep does not will it

And I don't believe him,
Morning is mocking me.

I'll wander the streets avoiding them eats
Til the ring on my finger slips to the ground.
A gift to the gutter,
A gift to the city,
The veins of which have broken me down.

And I don't believe him,
Morning is mocking me.
And the gods that he believes
Never fail to amaze me.

He believes in the love of his god of all things
But I find him wrapped up in all manner of sins.
The drugs that deceive him and the girls that believe him:
I can't control you, I don't know you well,
These are the reasons I think that you're ill.
I can't control you, I don't know you well,
These are the reasons I think that you're ill.

And since last time we parted, last that I saw him,
Down by a river, silent and hardened
Morning was mocking us
Blood hit the sky
I was just happy my manic and I.
He couldnt see me the sun was in his eyes.
And birds were singing to calm us down,
And birds were singing to calm us down.

And I'm sorry young man I cannot be your friend
I don't believe in a fairytale end.
I don't keep my head up all of the time,
I find it dull when my heart meets my mind.
And I hardly know you I think I can tell
These are the reasons I think that we're ill.
I hardly know you I think I can tell
These are the reasons I think that I'm ill.

And the gods that he believes never fail to disappoint me.
The gods that he believes never fail to disappoint me.

My nihilist, my happy man, my manic and I
Have no plans to move on.
But birds are singing to calm us down,
And birds are singing to calm us down.