It's hard to conjugate life
To separate the scar from the wound
And take the time pill
That someone put deep into our throats
Let there be God for all this mystery
Your children are histerical
They go around the world
Ready to mess us up
And us
A bunch of crazy people
Spinning around
Let there be a roof
For such lack of shelter
Let there be word
To the things I don't say
Let there be instinct
And let there be an exit
To such a big labyrint