Tekst:
American Nightmare Background Music

I was counting The good things about this city The only good thing is you are not here When you're around it Makes it hard to be what I need to be I

I ran through Storm stained city streets Paved with pain To bring these roses to you And with sore throat insecurity You pulled the thorns From my bleeding

When your "golden days" are "that was just a phase..." Lose yourself to reminisce Pictures and innocence Try to remember when you felt free and The smiles

Dear eastern prom I know what's wrong... But it's suicide eyes That wrote this song For all I'm worth Writer's block is a bitch Words falling like bricks

Everyone I ever loved Went down in history... The blue eyes came The brown eyes left... And the rest is misery Dreams are trash On the side of the road

Whatever this becomes, Whatever words I say, we are the fortunate ones, And when the days are done I won't forget. All I see in you and me, is a light