U
Like a robot, I get out of bed, possessed by the demon of inertia.
Following the same habits, driven by the same delusions.
Feeling the same feelings, looking at the same eyes full of emptiness.
Drown in the light of screens showing virtual lies. Lies that I could have had..or so I think.
Tortured by passed regrets, tortured by the cruelty and irony of the future.
A deserted heart. A heart that was never loved by a woman and that could never love a woman.
A faulty heart. A lonely heart - like a lung wrapped in cigarette smoke - breathing air carrying sharp traces; each breath a knife in me;
Insanity.
What's left of me? What's left of the world?
It's too late. I missed everything. I was lost in my weakness and later suffocated by the world.
I could have had it all...or so I think.
The same heat continues. The heat of the bus. The same people. The same looks. The same air. The same lost faces.
Where are we going? To the place that we have always gone - to the wageslave house.
There we work. There we play the roles. There will drag the chains.
Every movement, every sound - orchestrated.
They laugh. I cry inside.
They sing. I slouch.
They live...or so they think.
Is there hope that the different day will come?
Will I ever breath or will I always burn in the inferno of this world made of cycles robbing your soul until it's naked?
When will I look at her and see a face that smiles with love because my heart is beating faster?
I could have had it all..or so I think.
What will change? What could I change?
Everything...and yet nothing.
Following the same habits, driven by the same delusions.
Feeling the same feelings, looking at the same eyes full of emptiness.
Drown in the light of screens showing virtual lies. Lies that I could have had..or so I think.
Tortured by passed regrets, tortured by the cruelty and irony of the future.
A deserted heart. A heart that was never loved by a woman and that could never love a woman.
A faulty heart. A lonely heart - like a lung wrapped in cigarette smoke - breathing air carrying sharp traces; each breath a knife in me;
Insanity.
What's left of me? What's left of the world?
It's too late. I missed everything. I was lost in my weakness and later suffocated by the world.
I could have had it all...or so I think.
The same heat continues. The heat of the bus. The same people. The same looks. The same air. The same lost faces.
Where are we going? To the place that we have always gone - to the wageslave house.
There we work. There we play the roles. There will drag the chains.
Every movement, every sound - orchestrated.
They laugh. I cry inside.
They sing. I slouch.
They live...or so they think.
Is there hope that the different day will come?
Will I ever breath or will I always burn in the inferno of this world made of cycles robbing your soul until it's naked?
When will I look at her and see a face that smiles with love because my heart is beating faster?
I could have had it all..or so I think.
What will change? What could I change?
Everything...and yet nothing.
