Fever is a bad omen, it has to be.
If I have a fever when I see her
Maybe there's something wrong.
Or maybe it's not a fever,
My soul is for sell, but who would want to buy it?
My soul is for sell, but nobody will pay for it.
My soul is for sell, but the devil turned me down.
My soul is for sell, and the fallen one is laughing.
We don't want to belong
If this world is about selling and buying.
Then we will revolt and get ourself a new world.
Were economy is something that doesn't destroy human life.
The wind carries away the dust,
and there is nothing more to see.
Once so proud, but now nothing more,
The dancers dance their steps,
The singers sing their song,
And the musicians play their music.
As the world dawns from the history of war.
A terrible curse has occurred.
A project of Manhattan, with the greatest minds.
And with a message of salvation.
The world is silent and I stand here.
On the edge of darkness I stand.
And I look to the endless space.
And I see a shooting star.
I don't believe in fame, I want to believe in music.
I don't believe in money, I want to believe in the power of love.
But how is that possible in this age?
They say that time marches on.
But my life, it won't go on.
They try to tell me A and B
They tell me how my life should be.