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• Artiste: Deaf Havana
• Titre: Saint
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My eyes glazed And my fingers cold And my body aches This is getting old From the first drip To the seventh home Well, it's hard to quit This is getting old All my dreams get soaked in the night I need the light to keep them dry Pour me another, light me another I wish I could be a saint like my mother 'Cause we live the same, we die the same way I would be proud to call you my brother Yeah, I would be proud to call you my brother Well, it's hard to sleep But it's all I know And it hurts to speak This is getting old From the morning sun To the evening glow I'm a nervous wreck This is getting old All my dreams get soaked in the night I need some light to keep them dry Pour me another, light me another I wish I could be a saint like my mother 'Cause we live the same, we die the same way I would be proud to call you my brother ('Cause live the same, we die the same way We live the same, we die the same way) Yeah, I would be proud to call you my brother We live the same, we die the same way, oh