Besedila: Manic Street Preachers. Bag Lady.

I am not dead
I demand I know my rights
I know my rights
You cover illness with flowers
And flowers die
And flowers die

Waking I feel
I follow mirrors that
Make sense to me
Make sense to me
Never let yourself out, I did
It ruined me
It ruined me

To be morally good
Are we ready to love?
A devil pretending to be a god
Love's written on paper, and paper burns
Eternity is not sunrise

Waking I feel
I follow mirrors that
Make sense to me,
Make sense to me
Never let your self out, I did
It ruined me
It ruined me

To be morally good
Are we ready to love?
A devil pretending to be a god
Love's written on paper and paper burns
Eternity is not a sunrise