Troubled Waltz from No Offense by Antun Opic

troubled waltz

you're leaving all your troubles home
cut your skin from your bone
crawling on the battlefield
your style as your shield
but my mirror was breaking
you know gods bakery is baking
humans of wisdom
or poor condemned souls
but i learned what time is
and it ain't my business
i sure feel fine
but brother, can you spare a dime?

the doors through which i wanted: blocked
i wasted my life to unlock
but then there was no wealth beyond
but i was oh so fond
of a world where money replaced the flower
where the liars own all power
where the drones march out to work
devil lurks even under your skirt
things worth to live for
all locked up behind your door
i spent my holidays on the shore
bought my luck in the store

but the irony behind it all
the liars have grown tall
so when i lay once buried dead
the'll put a store on my head
and there they drive a million cars
there they fight a hundred wars
soldiers lying dead
over my head
and the last bullet's used
and the fog is amused
for it will last a thousand years
and damp the dead with its tears

• Folk
• Rock
• blues
• singer-songwriter
• songwriter
• Munich