Perhaps it flows inside the silence, the sense
the outline of life, is among the things
neither the darkness fits to imagine
the reason that invites us to try
I know that it can also be good to shout
to redeem the soul from the torpor
I know that's not love what deceives me
because I want to love ..
I want to live
but on my skin
I want to love, hurt myself
I want to die of you
I want to live
but on my skin
I want to love, hurt myself
I want to die of you
Against my balance, always a bit precarious
I make my instinct free, what sustains me
(a) new emotion without name
the reason which invites us to continue
I have no solution for this problem
I feel the victim and the jailer
I know that's not love what deceives me
because I want to love ..
I want to live
but on my skin
I want to love, hurt myself
I want to die of you
I want to live
but on my skin
I want to love, hurt myself
I want to die of you
I want to live
but on my skin
I want to love, hurt myself
I want to die of you
Perhaps the consciousness
the meaning of life
stays in the midst of a thousand nights
or maybe more
it will not help betray
but simply to love
anything that gives you more
I want to live
but on my skin
I want to love, hurt myself
I want to die of you
I want to live
but on my skin
I want to love, hurt myself
I want to die of you