Tekster: Streetlight Manifesto. Somewhere In The Between. Forty Days.

And it's been forty days - I've tried forty ways - You will never quite leave your sins behind - They'll haunt you, taunt you until the day you die - You will never really go - You'll just think about it much but you'll need to know how the story ends, so you'll sit around, even though you should just go - Tell your friends what you have heard, show them all the lies unlearned - And when you really go, you will really know you were never meant for earth - What's it worth? - If we're going to break it down with any logic, it's absurd - And no matter where we go, we are not alone - WHen the silence turns to cries of "Why?" - What a way to begin: we inherit sin - And nobody's going to quench your thirst when the well runs dry - And nobody's going to hold your hand on the day you die - I've tasted seven sins, so they won't let me in - I knock knock knock until my knuckles are bruised and raw - Stuck in the middle with my blood in a puddle on the floor - We made our beds, we'll judge ourselves - And only then and there will we disappear to our final resting place - What a waste! - So many decent people at the gates - And no matter who you know, you will be alone - When the silence turns to cries of "Why?" - What a way to begin: we inherit sin - And nobody's going to quench your thirst when the well runs dry - And nobody's going to hold your hand on the day you die