There are killers on the road

The memories of memories
Gives the drops of time within us
It’s the day and the nights
Knocking on the alter of the forgotten past
And the smell of complication is rising from the piano

There are killers on the road
There’s is passion is the sky of diaspora
The piano man is crawling on the notes
Shooting blood into the heart

Behind the eyes, the stories are hiding
Down the cost of summer waves
Standing of the edge
Spreading mirrors across life

The memories of memories belong to us
Speaking black and white
And the piano man is crawling on the notes
Shooting blood into the heart