There's a place where all the pleople used to go. To ease the pain and cure the suffering. They try to hide their every-day prostitution, they value themselves by comparing themselves to others. They're not like me, I keep my self-deception, behind a mask of pride and dignity. It seems to me, that they are searching all-day, not knowing what they will find, to be...

I don't need the city, it never cared for me.
I don't need this pity, of tranquility.
I want to see the blue sky, but darkened clouds I see.
I don't need the city, I don't need this...

There's a place where all the pleople used to be, and suffocate from all their lies. Somehow they have managed all their misbehaviour, to the point of this despite. They're not like me, I hide my self-reflection, behind a wall of privacy. It seems to me, that I have found my pleasures, in watching them drowning... slowly.

I don't need the city, it never cared for me.
I don't need this pity, of tranquility.
I want to see the blue sky, but darkened clouds I see.
I don't need the city, I don't need this...