They're trolling down the streets in packs and gangs,
Always looking for fights and excuses for wars.
Pretending to be the kings of the streets
While drinking and shooting-up and violating whores.
A bad trip into space and now they feel the ache
Of not going back but they don't really care.
It's a world of opportunities and taking advantage,
There is no remorse as they selling those lost souls.

All they know is a fantasy world they've created,
An illusion for themselves alone,
Can anyone accept that?

He used to be one of them and he felt no pain
As he glided down into a universe free of reign,
Escaping himself and running into things and people
Of a kind he used to hate and ignore once.
But waking-up hanged-over and full of despair,
He knows he has only one solution now,
He takes the gun and loads it and point it to his head,
Because he can't longer ignore the pain inside his broken
heart.

All he knows is a world full of regrets,
A reality he created to himself,
Can anyone forgive him?!

Do you drink and inhale and shoot-up at parties
While you're fucking some girls you don't even know?
Do you lose yourself in music and drugs and sex
Because you feel so empty and hollow and it bugs you so?
Getting so high to escape being sober
Because being truly alive is painful and unbearable?!
Do you keep falling in love with every girl you meet
With a short-skirt and cleavage so deep
And so easy to use because your hate for yourself getting
the best of you?!

(''Oh, you look so fine tonight,
And I like the way your ass moves,
Do you want to get high and laid
And completely waste ourselves?!'')

All we know is a fake and screwed-up world,
Something we all really want,
But in the end can we really escape ourselves?!
All we want is piece of mind and some quiet,
So why do we replace it with noise, illusions and
hangovers?
In the end can we even recognize ourselves after all the
damage we've done?