Birds In Row Chat Noir
Unbearable vision of failure of the desperate sailors
abandoned by the fortune of oil. Believe me, don't wait
for a saviour. Here's your sheet-steel coffin, may you
appreciate. Believe me, do not look for an answer. There
are still shits coming before you pass away. And i can't
bear this snow. And i can't bear this room. And i wish my
feet would have never known the dark streets of Cottbus.
End. Maybe we could dance and smile and figure out we're
still alive, as if we're not leaving our dreams along
this late highway. Maybe we could wait for some better
skies to come and shine Over the tragedy we leave along
white barricades. This was where we lived. This is where
it ends. Common failure, common sailors. Abandonned by
the fortune of oil.
