90-tallet - Teenage moaning

Nothing hurts like distant memories
My summerdays were invaded by real fantasies

But is it really? A forgotten fantasy

Have the life of your own
Your adjudgements can't be wrong
I'll never have your crown

My effort is the killer of my comfort

Decide the life that you need
Witness the person that really bleed
The memory is truly distant
Decide the life that you want

But is it really? I wasn't the only truly

Have the life of your own
Your adjudgements can't be wrong
Hidden teardrops lay in your town

My effort is the killer of my comfort

Fighting species have their rights
Let the animals sleep on ice
Their integrity equals that of mice
Gone out of my fantasy, to the places we don't know
But is it really? Hatred never beats love

Have the life of your own
May you still think of this clown
Who wants to still be around

Losing words lose their claim
Hidden feelings is a shame
Written in the dusty bed, we shall never lose our heads
It's time to say the first goodbye
But I'll always look on from the sky

Have the life of your own
Hidden hatred is portionally outblown
And it is really
The truths of an unnamed fantasy
Trace these feelings back to me

---

På arket: Skrevet sist helg (på 90-tallet) på under en time, derfor er det skrivefeil og sånn.