Let you down

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?


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