Jxxnlvd - Kalte Straßen

Under the cold of tears
She'll decay and be warm
The style is death
A white rose in a morphine dream
A joke to amuse life
Goodbye into a snowstorm
While you shake the thoughts
Memories of conversation

Come back to the line
Like eager sadness
A knife hollows them out
Hollows them out
A thin skin of black letters

I make myself sick
Born with thoughts of disappointment
Hands out palms dry
Give me something to grasp
False truth or fakе hope
We say yes to dеath