Songtexte:
Martin Messe

Drowning our soul, mans' power turns to a childs' game, we're all stupid, fucking cold, only womens love helps us through this gate. We hate to be in

box with many clocks But one was shining more And he said Don?t mess with god?s thick gold wristwatch Don?t mess with god?s thick gold wristwatch Don?t you mess

All the March things pale I felt stupid being there But it was easy enough for you to like I tried not to look so bored just to have you not say "are

'll be moving on. Except these days just won't change. Forever doesn't look so good, so forever I must try and think of ways to clean up my mess, unlock