Swimming in the troubled waters
Of the forthcoming days
Waiting here for the end
Floating through the heavy air
Of the almost nothing
To whom should hold out the hand
If I must falling from high
Let my fall be slow
I haven't found rest
But indifference
However, I would like to recover the innocence
But nothing makes sense, and nothing is fine
Everything is chaos
Beside
All my ideals: words
Damaged...
I am looking for a soul who
Will be able to help me
I am
From a disenchanted generation,
Disenchanted
Who could prevent me
To hear everything
When the reason collapses
To whom saint we should be devoting
Who can pretend
To rock us in one's belly
If death is a mystery
Life is nothing of tender
If Heaven has a hell
Heaven can wait for me well
Tell me,
How to handle this headwind
Nothing more makes sense anymore, nothing no longer is fine