song lyrics
Script Of A Dead Poet lyrics
The coffee black and nearly cold
And I look back while hours pass by
A sheet of paper on the table torn to shreds
If you are able to solve the puzzle, try
It s my last script that you may hold
Or wipe away when the bar has closed
My last remains here in your hands and in the end
What I was writing for, I just don t know
Don t know

How many times to make youy understand
Or was it for the triumph of applauding hands
How many words I had to spell and all the stories I would tell
For the short and orgiastic turn when d you say: well

What were they for, these black inked dreams
A guaranty that I was wise
And so called gods define an entrance for eternal life
Into a masterpeace of mine
All I wanted to be
Was extraordinary, extraordinary
And maybe I was wrong
How many people have I killed
With my suicidal songs
song lyrics