1. |
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I spent last times in labyrinths. Labyrinths built by myself, since I knew the way out of it, the final outcome of the game. But how is it possible to be lost into my own labyrinth ? Maybe if i hadn't my mind clear as quartz. I'm the hammer and the anvil at the same time. I'm kind of my own victim. Loser for life. Since the beginning, i knew the plans, I knew the safer exits. Stop breathing, just a minute. And now imagine yourself playing with me. Like when you imagine yourself in an old film, that you know by heart from the beginning to the end. You're now living in a story that you had repeated. And every time, it's still breaking your cold heart.
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2. |
Freedom Slaves
02:18
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Freedom! What a strange word. State of someone who's not submissive to servitude, the first meaning of a word which rhymed before with happiness and that is just a refuge to survive today. Because in fact, what do we know exactly about freedom, us, who are living for perpetual dependence. We hope for freedom, freedom to survive, we live for freedom... That's the sad consequence of a breathless world by power. We are the slaves of a freedom gnawed by fear that kills us slowly like the snake's venom that spreads into our veins
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3. |
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Caught in an infernal circle, in a cycle of hate. I wish i could just fall asleep, and wake up somewhere else. I hate this world, that consumes me from the inside. It's here that I've been making mistakes. The biggest I always make is to be scared of making some. When everything is right, i must be scared and break everything i built before. My fears, always the same. My tears, smell the pain. I'm everything I love and everything I hate. Forgive me, i'm just scared. I just want to know what will come next. I took this pen to write to someone, i took this mic to scream my hate to the world. My body is nothing more than the scar of a pain called you and me.
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4. |
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Have you already think about the things that lead you to put your feet out of this dying bed every morning ? I slept all day long, and by opening my eyes, I had the feeling that your warmth was still there. I get close to the window and i can note that the snow flakes lighten are so fucking cold, but they seem hotter than my lounge chimney.
Walking outside now, I'm on my own and I feel so alone.
Eveything seems strange, nothing progress. I guess It's me, and I also know that It's winter, but there's no warmth similar to your house.
On the square bench, I think all day long, and I think about the falling flakes, and only the cars' sound keeps me on the way
And on this bench, on our bench, I think about you again. You may used to smoke only to warm the cold smiles you were giving to life. I also remember that the ashes dies on the ground and that every piece of paper used to have its own way to fall.
I'm waking up. Please summer come.
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5. |
Sun
02:55
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I'm not familiar with having a so beautiful life. And all these smiles, all this happiness, this joy, will it be taken away ?
And why can't I share it with you ?
I sometimes regret your presence.
We always pretend, we love to dare believing that someone is waiting for us to come. I'm waiting for you.
Say to the world that i'm waiting for you.
It's too hard for me to conceive building a life without a presence to keep me quiet. Without knowing that you're here in fact.
Maybe a brief comeback to the peak of desperation will remove this illusion of an already written life.
Anyway, I like to pretend mattering in the life of someone like you. And I mainly like making them believing it's true.
I'd love to die away on the sun with you.
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