Sick o Clock
in a sick old world
We all run under a shattered sky
under the sick we laugh and cry
Collecting fragments of our existence
while keeping the greatest distance
Drugs are trading youth
We touch the thorns to feel smooth
over the surface and under the skin
they show us their hug to swallow our dream
Take what is left from this world
and make it your home
Keep it safe, keep it warm
For this child
Love what is torn from our soul
Remember the reason
You woke up one day
Filled with dreams
