My pain is indescribable
Poor old me
My head feels like a steam machine
Limbs of steel
My wallet´s empty, I am broke
I want to scream

This [bad word] to an end
Cross my heart my friend
But in a week I will be lying here like Dead Again

Whiskey, wine and drafted beer
Never, no more
pitch-black anguish strangles me
There´s no cure

This [bad word] to an end...