The smoke from my ciggarette is slowly ringlin' up towards the ceiling, the half empty whiskeyglass is waiting for me to use it. To let it make me forget. The paper in front of me is full of sketches and useless words. This hotelroom is perfect.

This ache I have won't go away. But still, what can I do?
It was my choise. Our choice. It will never be easy.
But still I stand tall, sticking to what I've said.
All of a sudden you say you want me.

Loose your present life and live your new with me.