t.A.T.u. - White Robe

Feeling ugly, looking pretty Yellow ribbons, black graffiti Word is written, bone is broken No big secret left unspoken Sun is painted in the corner But it's never getting warmer All the lies they keep on selling But you never check the spelling Flying bullets Hit the targets Wings and halos Five to seven In this white robe Through the darkness Paragliding Back to heaven Flying bullets Hit the targets Wings and halos Five to seven In this white robe Through the darkness Paragliding Back to heaven Time is running, we are sitting Back together, just for splitting You are crying in the corner Always next and never former Open up and let me hear it Former body, future spirit Brain is useless, chair is rocking Open doors for dead man walking Flying bullets Hit the targets Wings and halos Five to seven In this white robe Through the darkness Paragliding Back to heaven Flying bullets Hit the targets Wings and halos Five to seven In this white robe Through the darkness Paragliding Back to heaven