Black cotton is cheap
Poor souls I could reap
Hear my mind, touch my feelings
I'm staring hopelessly at the ceiling
Medals made of honour
(But) Deeds had turned sour
Imagine... Death sentence
When no one care for your presence
**Tojeng solo ala-ala Frusciante sebelum 'rehab'**
She was anxious and bitter
That's all I could discover
Do I make you nervous?
THERE'S BEEN TOO MUCH HATRED...AMONG US!....
AMONG US... AMONG US... AMONG US...