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Thomas J. Watson, Sr.
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Biên tập viên
Born to Die in Berlin
Intoxicated by the orchids abandoned in the garden
Demanding morphine curse my soul is burning
Stranded in the sweet wonderings
breathing the pale moon silver
Torn painted lips tasting the last drops of life
Sometimes I feel like screaming
Sometimes I feel I just can't win
Sometimes I feelin' my soul is as restless as the wind
Maybe I was born to die in Berlin
I sprinkled cocaine on the floor
when no one was watching
I closed my eyes and I let myself sleep
Creeps and dirty bastards,
demons waitin' by my bed
There's no choice or difference,
no one seems to notice
Sometimes I feel like screamin'
Sometimes I feel I just can't win
Sometimes I feelin' my soul is as restless as the wind
Maybe I was born to die in Berlin
Sometimes I feel like screamin
Sometimes I feel I just can't win
Sometimes I feelin' my soul is as restless as the wind
Maybe I was born to die in Berlin
Maybe I was born to die in Berlin