Make- up packed on my face
To cover up those slap marks and bruises...

Fallen angel from the heavens
Trying to find the past...

I wonder through burnt down towns
Seeing what’s left of the diaster...

I find myself crying, sometimes I don't know why,
Crying to myself...

What’s the point in being here?
What’s the point in living...

I wish I was dead
That all my loved ones were alive...

Lying on my bed,
My dreams have come true...

I really like him
He told he felt the same...

Two shadows standing on the corner,
Moods are dark and black...

I beg to know what I did wrong, I want to...
Why was I sent here, to this evil land...

I sit, staring at the ceiling,
Just thinking about my life...

After 8 years,
We were still friends...