Fickleness Lyrics

Better days are the property of past

Simple words and things, they become treasures so fast

I'm like the boy looking at his broken toy

Swearing on and on, he will never play again



Maybe one of these days, an angel in the sky

Will tell me why...

Why every ideal thing is here to die





Better days are the property of past

Simple words and things, they become treasures so fast

Just like a ghost, I will vanish in your mind

Am I with you now only for this favourite time?



Maybe one of these days, an angel in the sky

Will tell me why...

Why every person I love is looking for

New and higher days,

A new game to play

One more, without me.