On the edge of the lost.
In Vegas, In vegas I drink too much.
Like the rest I sip and fall.
I stand up close and personal,
close and personal with the dead.
Im on the edge now
On the edge of reason
In a city that never sleeps.
I''m in a dream, I will never wake up.
Behind the mask are smeared mascara drops.
Behind the mask and the charade of colour.
Behind the mask holds another girl.
Another girl lost
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem