The sleeves don't hide anything
My pockets are empty
My impulses are controlled,
But my habits are obsessive
The hands touching me are frozen
The conversations I have are only decorations
It seems that there is no alternative
In this life filled with blind alleys
It seems that there is no alternative
I need a more active form
The days pass by
And we are so used
To seeing us this way
That it doesn't interest us anymore
I have been prisoner of this labyrinth for years
I only count on my instincts
If I don't think about making myself comfortable,
Maybe I will manage to satiate myself
For I have already screamed at the skies
And already whispered at the sea
I will only lay my weapons down
For someone worth fighting for
The days pass by
And we are so used
To seeing us this way
That it doesn't interest us anymore