Thinking of the past I feel my life Is slipping by at such a speed Things I knew have gone and those I loved I look for granted and deceived Call me anything you will I`ll hide behind a purple pill And though it seems I`m laughing still I`m crying Looking from my window I see winter Almost too bare to believe People change with seasons And I wonder if it`s my turn to receive But they avoid the things I ask Or quickly change their style of mask The faith I had is fading fast I`m dying Seems to me the only way to be Is like a business man And have bad colours round my head Getting drunk to find some peace of mind and consolation But there`s still the problem of what happens when I`m dead
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