από 0000MATINA Someone wrote "save me"on the wall Under the neon lights.. Dark and dirty alleys, indifferently empty.. Taste of oblivion.. You break into a cold sweat, blinded by the headlights.. Find solace in the shadows.. Wishing it would rain, let it pour down, let it cleanse you.. A cop car sirens ablazing Saturday night alert.. Someone is dying.. Somebody has whispers and then starts crying... Others just walk on by.. You must have made a deal.. Is it really worth it? All the broken hearted, fallen by the wayside.. Others sharing disbelief, sanctify the mystery.. In the beginning, what was it that John said? "When the World was made Love, it could last forever".. Someone wrote "save me"on the wall.. And I saw these words,drift up to heaven.. "Oh I don't wanna die,for anybodys sins tonight", said God,"why dont rest and send the devil?" I know you care and it hurts, almosty everyday.. But what you desire, is someone elses, in many ways.. Come in off the streets, its pouring early Sunday morn'.. A home is not a home, where there's noone, present and waiting.. present and waiting... Someone wrote "save me" on the wall - Πυξ Λαξ & Eric Burdon

από   0000MATINA

Someone wrote "save me"on the wall
Under the neon lights..
Dark and dirty alleys,
indifferently empty..
Taste of oblivion..


You break into a cold sweat,
blinded by the headlights..
Find solace in the shadows..
Wishing it would rain,
let it pour down,
let it cleanse you..


A cop car sirens
ablazing Saturday night alert..
Someone is dying..
Somebody has whispers
and then starts crying...


Others just walk on by..
You must have made a deal..
Is it really worth it?
All the broken hearted,
fallen by the wayside..
Others sharing disbelief,
sanctify the mystery..


In the beginning,
what was it that John said?
"When the World was made Love,
it could last forever"..


Someone wrote "save me"on the wall..
And I saw these words,drift up to heaven..


"Oh I don't wanna die,for anybodys sins tonight",
said God,"why dont rest and send the devil?"


I know you care and it hurts,
almosty everyday..
But what you desire,
is someone elses,
in many ways..


Come in off the streets,
its pouring early Sunday morn'..
A home is not a home,
where there's noone,
present and waiting..
present and waiting...