Mustasch Dead Again
My pain is indescribable Poor old me My head feels like a steam machine Limbs of steel My wallet's empty, I am broke I want to scream
This must come to an end Cross my heart my friend But in a week I will be lying here like dead again
Whiskey, wine and drafted beer Never, no more A pitch-black anguish strangles me There's no cure
This must come to an end Cross my heart my friend But in a week I will be lying here like dead again
