Count the days until I leave
It's just not living
I can't even look you in the eyes
I don't know if I have to leave
I hope I don't disappoint you
I hope that's not the case
In your wake I saw my purpose
In your look I saw my breathing
The sparrow that comes out of my bowels
And the cold of autumn that winter disturbs
The crimson line that reminds me of the walk
A new dream land I have to explore
Yes, maybe it's silent
Yes, maybe it is my refuge
Yes, maybe they call me crazy
And yes, I wouldn't give a shit
Because in the end losing it doesn't mean anything
Because in my chest I feel a void
Inside my bony interior
Empty I am, empty I go
But it's that emptiness that burns in my throat
That fire that burns bright
Reading became my best friend
Who gives meaning to my art
I have seen endearing sunsets through my tears
Nobody has much to say
I wasn't listening anyway.
But I have a feeling it's going to get worse
Before it even turns bad
Just don't listen to me
Maybe the time zone makes you read this at dawn
While I watch the sun rise
But I have something to say
All I want is nothing
What's the point of having "everything" if I don't have the only thing?
That only thing, my everything
If I don't have that everything I don't want anything
Because everything I want is the only thing I can't have
These are my limits
I don't care about hurting them
Because they are not going to bother to understand it
Where is my Mind?
On the day I told you about Magritte
I know you're not afraid of the dark
So walk next to me
In that spider web, in that gray sky
In that broken guitar, in that catharsis
Choosing a David Bowie vinyl
Or if you prefer to listen to one of my CDs
Whatever, but I want to save your image
Even if I'm stained with paint and blood
France, answer my call
My tear ducts are nowhere near bleeding
Because I am aware of what I am
Why is there only blood and pain in my art?
-Burn!
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