2000-11-14

Changing (Promena)


I am anxious all the time
With these itches under skin
And the dust that's on my chin
I don't feel like I'm alive

All these years have passed me by
Too much words I fought inside
Can you guess what's on my mind
I got nothing to confide

With the fake grin on my face
All "Good days" I trade for swears
Cynic till the day I die
I will never cure my pride

Leisure gets me so deplete
In my dreams I grind my teeth
Every sunrise that I meet
I am wilting like a tree

I am expert for excuse
I just hate to be accused
If you give me one more chance
I will prove my innocence

Nervozan sam danima
osećam u kostima
na temenu prašina
ništa me ne zanima

Svih proteklih godina
svađam se sa rečima
da li se već oseća
da me svaka pogađa

Smejem se bez razloga
psujem mesto pozdrava
ciničan bez granica
imam rak karaktera

Umoran od nerada
u snu škripim zubima
svako jutro iznova
Pirova je pobeda

Izgovora gomila
lenjost tiho ubija
potrebna je promena
u glavi i grudima