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Osjećam se k'o stroj...radim stalno iste radnje: kuckam uplatnice, knjižim, printam, zbrajam, oduzimam...bljak.
Glupi dosadni papiri. Il' sam to ja dosadna? Da se odem liječit, možda? Da odem nekom šrinku pričat o brojčanim fobijama koje me spopadaju noću i o tome kako se ponekad budim sa kalkulacijama, umjesto imbecilnim repetitivnim pjesmama tipa "Magazin", u glavi...zabrijala sam. Poglupila od brojki. Jebeš 'vaku rutinu.
A heart that's full up like a landfill
A job that slowly kills you
Bruises that won't heal
You look so tired and unhappy
Bring down the government
They don't, they don't speak for us
I'll take a quiet life
A handshake of carbon monoxide
No alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises
Silent, silent
This is my final fit, my final bellyache with
No alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises please
Such a pretty house, such a pretty garden
No alarms and no surprises (let me out of here)
No alarms and no surprises (let me out of here)
No alarms and no surprises please (let me out of here)
Ne, neću se ubit...dat ću otkaz u tridesetoj :))
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