Hey, man, tell me the truth.
Hey, man, I'm sick of the blues.
I'm lying in a hospital bed
No one will pat me on the head
I don't feel the taste of life
Love is left behind the hills
I don't feel the taste of life
, I take pills, I take pills
I don't remember her face.
I remember the sound of brakes.
Hit. Life goes out like a spark,
And I'm flying into the dark
Hey, man, tell me the truth
© Copyright: Костя Мантечибан Маркелов, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124021906548
Свидетельство о публикации №124021906548
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