The wind is bitter in the golden hair,
accustomed to expensive perfume.
Angel eyes - greedy for success
there is not even hope.
Chorus:
Sick, Sick for Love,
strangers in a crazy world.
Sick, hungry for love,
we swim in a sea without shore.
Grey pain sleeps in sadness unknown
startled by cheap noise.
It doesn't actually hurt,
there is only fear without sound the soul flees.
Chorus:
I am your servant here,
I'm damn good when it comes to evil.
I have created comfort for you to pamper yourself without end
and money and power for your greedy passions.
all the riches I give you
for life, but without love.