歌手:Novelists
专辑:《Souvenirs》

作词 : Amaël Durand/Florestan Durand/Mattéo Buil-Gelsomino
作曲 : Amaël Durand/Florestan Durand/Mattéo Buil-Gelsomino
I'm not the greatest writter.Oh,I'm not the greatest,no.
I'm not perfect,nor even novelist.This time you better listen up.
Oh!Life have barely changed.
Twenty two,still pissed,plenty of ****s in the backpack and nikes on my feet.
Many pieces are missing since I came back home.
I can't deal with my own life,I'm incomplete.
Another empty wreck...****!
I'm just the shell of a man which is absent.
I'm wearing his skin but I'm partially vacant.
What I have is far from being gold but I write open hearted, my ***** in the inkwell.
**** it,I'm done with swallowing ******** since hitting it off has become an addiction.
I needed more than these words going nowhere to show you that this life is not such a poem.
Some black clouds will get so much bigger no matter how lucky I am.
I've never learned how to live with the thunder.
My heart is a lighting rod and I'm walking under a thunderstorm mesmerized by the lights.
With my eyes half shut.
I do live through these lines,writing this song just to say what I got to.
I need much more than these words just to show you that it's a struggle to be able to believe in this life.
Hey! Hey! I write with my heart open.
Hey! Hey! Even if It can be so callous.
Hey! Hey! Just listen.
This heartbeat have so much to say.
I just can't keep it in. I just won't it in.
I'm not the greatest writer and this isn't the greatest song.
I'm not perfect,nor even novelist, I'm not saint, I'm not a ******* prophet.
**** this, I'm just drifting.
I keep moving pushed by the movement.
I'm still trying to pull the strings of my ******* life.
Oh,you can keep the pain,the fame,the money and the whore 'cause I'm a body shaped shell in a sorry state.
"My friends,you better listen!
This man you see now isn't totally different, along the road he thought he'll found himself,
a ******* sense at these goddamn feelings".
I'm just the shell of a man which is absent.
I'm wearing his skin but I'm partially vacant.
What I have is far from being gold but I write open hearted,my ***** in the inkwell.
**** it,I'm done with swallowing ******** since hitting it off has become an addiction.
I needed more than these words going nowhere to show you that this life is not such a poem.
I'm just the shell of a man which is absent.
I wear his skin but I'm partially vacant.
My heart is a lighting rod and I'm walking under a thunderstorm mesmerized by the lights.