| This obsessive picture, indistinct
|
| These trail of smiles, goodwill
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| Just to wake up and hear all these cries in my head
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| As a union of what and who we are sweeps through
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| Unconscious and unspeakable
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| Just to wake up and see
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| This final aim we don’t suspect
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| Why are these feelings darkened my nights
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| Again and again?
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| All made of fear, isolation and confusion
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| Bigger than the desolation my life was made of before…
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| Have I to close my eyes again?
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| Have I to loose these bearings so hard to regain?
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| This hope wasn’t it of my own
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| Why me? |
| I don’t want to
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| I want to stay in this paradise that open new Helldoors
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| But this increasingly strong feeling is obnoxious to me
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| A total control of my existence is suffocating me
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| The pleasure to feel the fear urges me to go far from here
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| A jail of delight
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| Not without a shadow
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| Why I, a common citizen, having days seeing
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| Having days seeing only the happiness of my people
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| I made my choice, this desolation outside
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| May be our true reconstruction
|
| I close my eyes again
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| And disappear into this world I’ve hated so much
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| But through which I live tree again
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| To live free again |