You're watching winter through the window
It's four fifteen in the evening
The snow is blue like a tv screen
Monochrome picture on the last page

Newspapers scattered on the street
Full of cars and high buildings
You're screaming out in your empty room
You don't dare to open the window

You're talking on the telephone
You can imagine her face
Maybe you've seen her on tv
Maybe in an advertisement

Newspapers bleeding on the floor
Full of stains of broken mirrors
You're screamless in once your favourite room
You don't care to open the window

You don't wait for anything else
You turn the music to the max
All the things will remain
Broken bottles, broken hopes
Maybe you will be on tv
Maybe friends will come at last
You don't wait for anything more
You open the window, close the door...

Someone's knocking at the door