From a window in the attic I see grey birds passing by lost on their way onto forgiving nothingness What would I find here, if I stayed? A life without hope What would you find of me, if I decayed? A wasted life ended by the rope From a window in the attic I see life passing by wipe the daylight off my eyes, death alone knows my way And when Im gone, another one will take my place behind the window in the attic you will see his weary face And all, that will remain of me is just a vague memory
attic, window, passing, forgiving, vague