Paroles de The Problem

Put out that cigarette, concentrate
The problem's difficult, it can't wait
Wanting to leave: waiting to stay
Having your say: getting your way

I had an idea, a recollection
And it was, it concerned the past:
The lucky die young and the good never last

To struggle and to suddenly collapse
In the shifting sands that swallow time and all
The brittle and the breaking strands
That bind us won't last