I wake up in the morning dreaming of the night
alone and sick and tired of the day's disguises
of all these masks of greyness all of you might wear
of all the fake promisses that drives to despair

there's no celebration
not a day to mask the pain i feel
you cannot expect from me to be the one
of your dreams
there's no celebration
not a day to mask the pain i feel
you cannot expect from me to be the one
of your dreams

i keep on contemplating moments of the dark
that hides me from all sickness of their unfair art
they wrote the books of truth but using words of lies
there is no thing to rise or fall nothing but grime