Not a member of Pastebin yet?
Sign Up,
it unlocks many cool features!
- So now I am older,
- Than my mother and father,
- When they hid from the nuclear winter,
- Now what does that say about me?
- Oh how could I dream of,
- Such a selfless and true Metro?
- Could I wash my Kalash of,
- Just lookin' out for me?
- Oh man what I used to be.
- Oh Artyom, oh my, oh me. (x2)
- By bullets or in radiation,
- Both the bandits and the communist,
- Will return to to the dirt I guess,
- Naked as when they came.
- I wonder if I'll hear,
- Singing pipes above me,
- Or just cracks in the concrete,
- Nobody else to blame.
- Oh man what I used to be.
- Oh Artyom, oh my, oh me. (x2)
- Gold Kalash and gold bullets,
- Every photo of the cities,
- Throw them into a pit with me,
- Bury them with my name.
- Unless I have someday,
- Ran the Dark Ones,
- Far, far away.
- Oh man, what I used to be,
- D2 to Exhibition.
- Oh Artyom, oh my, oh me.
Add Comment
Please, Sign In to add comment