Paroles de Junkies

The smell of the newsprint The face of death You rattle down the stairwell All cover in sweat And he has your face now I don't have to guess He lives in your distance Right in front of your face Holy mother of terror Bless my soul to keep Help me find the light switch So I can lay me down to sleep I have your face now And I have no pity I'm so far away There's no help left for me