Absinthe on fire right in front of you
Every move reflecting my will and purpose
We are seen as misfortunate
But liquor will never stop pouring
The poor see us in the upper class
Even they notice the sorrow in our eyes
Our laughter, dance and parties
Make the light go dimmer
When bottles are empty
Our cold hearts are frightened by silence.
Another round is ahead, there is more on the table
No need to wait until we are ready
Have to keep up with the burning fire.