Manastir Baroue

the music stopped to fill the night

we can't move in this silent room

the only sound to poison the air

comes from that man upstairs

his roaring voice screams full of hate

he can't forget his glory past

but now his only joy in life

is liquids, piss and beer

but we won't tell him, we want to forget these

we go on running up that hill

we won't tell him, we want to forget these

we go on running up that hill

our kind can fly away to

manastir baroue

sometimes you cannot stand their eyes

fixed on your face, grabbing at your soul

you shy away, think of our nights

and wish i would be around

but when we meet there in our room

illusions make us raise our fists

the sense of secrets everywhere

the loathsome one may smear again

but we won't tell him, we want to forget these

we go on running up that hill

we won't tell him, we want to forget these

we go on running up that hill

our kind can fly away to

manastir baroue

we won't tell him, we want to forget these...