Hwarang - The land of crust and salad

Hwarang - The land of crust and salad


Raided her world just to rebuild mine
Too many empty glasses and stitched up smiles
Now I'm laying in an apartment full of garbage
Trying to count the cigarette butts on my carpet
The ashes of my lovers cover some of the bloodstains
Finding myself.... wishing every day was a sunday
There aren't enough bartenders on earth
To nullify what I did to her.
It's impossible to live in the land of crust and salad
Cos you cannot fabricate the color of these tablets
I'm just running, running away through the stereo
From the Hell hounds in my rearview mirror
Hiding in my palace of eviction notes and self-written poems
Her perfume is still the reason I return to my hidden home
Only opening the gate when it's leading to a packed bar
Cos she moved on and you're still hiding behind that wall
"-Everybody, last call!"