April in Paris

I go on the street 
And all is everyday 
Grey walls and dusty trees 
And rubbish on my way 
I see the people's races 
And all repeat again 
I see them foolish faces 
And heads without brain. 

We a live in world of madness
We a live in world of sadness

I know my disease 
And I want kill my sense 
Hard life without drinks 
But exit, in my hands 
I buy the many beers 
And drink this after wine 
My brain-work to appease 
In the madness, our sign.