- cifra
I dress myself in leather
With flowers in my hair
The red light of the window
Nothing can compare
One more taste
One more time
One more time
I open the door wide
I wanted to survive
Nothing lasts
Nothing lasts
The bodies and the rhythm
And flowers in my hair
The red light on the leather
Nothing will compare
And now I want to play
Now I want to play
One more taste
One more time
I opened the door, wide
I wanted to survive
Nothing lasts
