Sick o Clock   in a sick old world      We all run under a shattered sky   under the sick we laugh and cry   Collecting fragments of our existence   while keeping the greatest distance      Drugs are trading youth   We touch the thorns to feel smooth   over the surface and under the skin   they show us their hug to swallow our dream      Take what is left from this world   and make it your home   Keep it safe, keep it warm   For this child      Love what is torn from our soul   Remember the reason   You woke up one day   Filled with dreams