der Woche
Lyrics:
t's a station after station when you're still not awake And all this glitter on your cheek, well it is glimmering but not for me We're reflections in whitewashed glass faces replaced, faces replaced faces replaced by outlined masks perfectly shaped perfectly shaped It's a station after station when you still are asleep And I'm getting tired of always asking For the strange saints of arts We're reflections in whitewashed glass faces replaced, faces replaced faces replaced by outlined masks perfectly shaped like porcelain
