When the first sunray comes,
strokes your face, endless drunk.
It was getting late, playing this song.
Hold you breath and watch the waves.
Rising and clash, peaceful and straight.
I guess I found myself in this place.
How could we fall asleep on the stones ?
This is what the people call home.
Taste your blood, bitter and sweet.
It's coming up, spit it down on the street.
Call it luck, you're ready to bleed.
When I first broke my leg,
I was drunk, I saw the death.
And I was laughing at him loud,
'cause my friends they were around.
How could we fall asleep on the stones ?
This is what the people call home.
I don't want to go.
Your calculation has gone wrong,
if you didn't count your friends among it.
No matter what shit you fucking deal with -
your equation should be solved for friendship.
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