Living dust,
I search for my Milky Way to no avail
In my upheaval,
I only found a mausoleum
And I ramble
I am afraid of emptiness
I turn pages
But... the pages are blank
Roving dust,
I could not find my way
Asking each hour for whom,
For what I should recover
And I ramble
I am afraid of emptiness
What are these tears for?
Tell me... Living? To what end?
But my God, what do I look like?
I am no use at all
And who could tell me, in this hell,
What we are expected to do? I admit
That I no longer know what my purpose is
I am probably of no use at all
But now I can keep quiet
When everything repels me
Burning dust,
Fever got the better of me
I laugh without laughter, I live,
I do anything
And I ramble
I am afraid of emptiness
I turn pages
But... the pages are blank
But my God, what do I look like?
I am no use at all
And who could tell me, in this hell,
What we are expected to do? I admit
That I no longer know what my purpose is
I am probably of no use at all
But now I can keep quiet
When everything repels me