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The ticker says
This is the end of the line
The party is over
The kick-out song is on repeat
But we're still dancing, fighting against time
So, please don't stop, please stay here
Everything is so perfect with you
You turn this pile of rubbish into a disposal park
In which we walk away our worries
But if we jump over these doors
There must be more
My eyes can't get enough of this
There must be more than that
If we jump over these doors
There must be more
Than the quicksand I'm about to sink into
We can be more than the little bit that we are
The doctors think you should have slowed down
You had an overdose of luck
You must have followed some will-o'-the-wisps
And never came back completely
Now you're sitting there in your shirt that's way too big
Coloring in comic books
Even if you call it a vacation in the mental hospital
It's still a Madhouse
But if we jump over these doors
There must be more
My eyes can't get enough of this
There must be more than that
If we jump over these doors
There must be more
Than the quicksand I'm about to sink into
We can be more than the little bit that we are
And you smile as if this room wasn't there
And you ask me Doesn't it smell like salt? And I nod as if the noise wasn't the motorway
And sand wasn't just part of the asphalt
And you talk as if the night was still young
Even though you're already dead tired at midday
I get up to air the air, but the windows here
Only open ajar
But if we jump over these doors
There must be more
My eyes won't get enough of this
There must be more than that
If we jump over these doors
There must be more
Than the quicksand I'm about to sink into
We can be more than the little bit that we are
This is the end of the line
The party is over
The kick-out song is on repeat
But we're still dancing, fighting against time
So, please don't stop, please stay here
Everything is so perfect with you
You turn this pile of rubbish into a disposal park
In which we walk away our worries
But if we jump over these doors
There must be more
My eyes can't get enough of this
There must be more than that
If we jump over these doors
There must be more
Than the quicksand I'm about to sink into
We can be more than the little bit that we are
The doctors think you should have slowed down
You had an overdose of luck
You must have followed some will-o'-the-wisps
And never came back completely
Now you're sitting there in your shirt that's way too big
Coloring in comic books
Even if you call it a vacation in the mental hospital
It's still a Madhouse
But if we jump over these doors
There must be more
My eyes can't get enough of this
There must be more than that
If we jump over these doors
There must be more
Than the quicksand I'm about to sink into
We can be more than the little bit that we are
And you smile as if this room wasn't there
And you ask me Doesn't it smell like salt? And I nod as if the noise wasn't the motorway
And sand wasn't just part of the asphalt
And you talk as if the night was still young
Even though you're already dead tired at midday
I get up to air the air, but the windows here
Only open ajar
But if we jump over these doors
There must be more
My eyes won't get enough of this
There must be more than that
If we jump over these doors
There must be more
Than the quicksand I'm about to sink into
We can be more than the little bit that we are
Writer(s): Johannes Bruhns, Maxim Richarz Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
zuletzt bearbeitet von Mellzi_17 (Melly_Jedward) am 21. November 2024, 5:41