January 1999 by Flying Stone
Verse 1
Felt so bad, felt alone, called my mother
After one and a half years
What do you want, why do you call?
Fuck off
Thought she would worry about her son
Think I was wrong, ok, no problem at all
Talked to my sisters some stupid things
Christmas
Chorus
Living with the street
Living with the street
Verse 2
Every day got up at six, brought my little
Sisters to their children group
In the evening at eight had to be at home
Shit
So many parties I have missed
Then from some day started coming late
My mother angry, she threw me out
Fuck off
Verse 3
Three years ago the first time my father
Called me from abroad, far in the north
Never saw him., what kind of man?
Tell me
Every day I drink my beer
When I’m drunk can beg much easier
Some day my dogs and me will visit him
Spring time
© 1999 Flying Stone