I'll have my eyes very far away,
And a cigarette in my mouth...
My chest within a hole,
And a half crazy cat.
An empty scene...
And a book, pained to death...
A destroyed drawing...
And indifferent charity...
A useless TV set,
Artificial company.
The radio at full volume,
And a prison that isn't mine...
An old age without fears
And a relaxed life...
Very agitated windows...
And such an unmoving bed...
And a mountain of piled up diaries,
And a flower taking care of my past...
And a murmur of voices that shout to me...
And a million hands that applaud me...
And your ghost above everything
When I begin to stay alone...