The memories of us feels my head with haze
as they seem to be going as dirt flys on dusty...

What happened to the sister i use to love;
you use to be my life, like a flying dove...

I dont wanna see this happen again,
Ive seen it too many times before...

Play with razors
Play with knives...

The sunshine is shinning bright
amd the rain is now out of sight...