On the cracked asphalt
Rubbing coarse sand
Keep your hands off
Take hold of the bicycle’s handlebars
With the peeling bandage
Spreading hot iron
Because the business deals are dangerous
Stop pretending to be a hypocrite
Ah, I can’t live anymore
I wish I could take only imagination, dadadadada
Ahead of our voices
Far beyond that
Where the surroundings turn completely red
Ahead of the factory smoke rising
The worn-out guitar body
Pocketing some money for repairs
Stop that illusion that won’t work out
Earn it yourself and pay for it
Ah, there’s nothing I can do anymore
I wish I could live playing around
Without any determination
Gripping the shirt with wet hands
Tightly, the innocent self
Looked at me
Ahead of the mottled sky
Far beyond that
Where the light of the heavy bicycle
Grows hazy and shines
Ahead of our voices
Far beyond that
Where the surroundings turn completely red
Ahead of the factory smoke rising