It was my fault
Only my fault
Damn the hypocrisy
The melancholy
The boredom that overtakes us
And that never goes away, eh< br/>How nice is she!?
This life
Like this, Lunatica?
Don't hurt yourself
I have to do this
I have to do it because
You haven't done anything wrong
And you're right
When you say I'm a child
And that I'm not, Mature?
/>And you're twenty years younger, eh
How nice is she?
This, Sunday
So complicated
I forgot that
I want that you are calm
And I promise you
I will leave your life
So slowly that
When you wake up
You won't notice it
You'll see, eh< br/>How nice she is
This Sunday
Like this, Lunatica, eh
How nice she is
This life
Like this It's complicated, eh

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