All my love is here to make me alone
It's like some kind of a violence that's killing me slowly
All my memories reflects to the “void”
They got nothing to do and just sitting on sofa

Henry Charles Bukowski was drinking too much,
when he write something he was using his typewriter
I never met him but I think I can be his friend
If I make a film about my life
Who do you think will be on?
And which part will you film?

When I walk I look up to the windows that somebody lives
There's a bar I used to go, hope it's the same
Shoulders with that small tatoo, water that I bought for you
The bench that we sat and smoke

Misty things are all around of me
Misty things are all around of me

My father Scott told me he thought he will die before 30
and one day he woke up and he was 60
I only meet him once in a year
Oh I guess I have to change how I live
But I don't wanna accept it
I don't wanna accept it

Right next from the bakery, the middle of the hill road's my home
I can see when the sun comes up through my room
You only worn glasses when you're home, cereals that we always liked
I dropped somethings on floor

Misty things are all around of me
Tokyo's the place for just like you and me

Misty things are all around of me
Misty things are all around of me


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