No Return

There is... I don't know, there is something in the air There is dust on our hands, there is dirt in our hair And we're cold... So cold. We don't ask ourselves if it's right or wrong We just play along We only wish we were strong But we're old... So old. A way to find you out of here What was that? I don't know, I guess Somebody killed a dream, somebody found the mess in their head... Their head Smashed your head against the wall Lost control You're no machine after all Your are dead... So dead. All the words, all the words are grey Just like solitary birds In the night And we can't, can't take everything back We can't turn all this black into white. There is blood on news, there is blood on your dreams There is something so sad about your fucked up esteem And we cry... Oh, cry From the newborn, today, to the dead in the grave The remote sets you free but you're still just a slave Why? Oh, why?...