All those molecules accumulated inside my haemoglobin
Allowing me to forfeit the gift to the haemophiliac
Assimilating my physique to a metaphysical concept
Constantly nourished by black market and trafficking
The result of my excess concentrated in my spirit
I’m doing myself a favour by avoiding the canonical age
The connections in my brain are replaced by black holes
The questions haemorrhaging, are fuelled by depression
I’m pacing while thinking of my condition
Not to complain, but to be authentic to my statement
All those moments, those sessions of sublime
Contribute to extenuate myself and to prove myself an Epicureanist
Fuck it, let it go, if I’m wrong I can still turn it around
I am slow to understand, but Truth is there, somehow
A false start, a sprint, a few missteps
A marathon, and like Icarus, I want to feel the warmth of the sun
Delusion comes and he fucks over Truth
Peacefulness has gone, Neurosis buried her
I’m walking backwards, my eyes blindfolded, yet still closed
I’m working hard so my lyrics, each one to be exact

I’m too behind to be ahead with my money, the hole in my pocket is worrying me
My spending on nights out which income can’t keep up with
The sum of those nights out which my head can’t keep up with
All those burnt-out neurons, all those euros to forget
All those first names to remember, my memory starts to fade
It’s insane to tell ourselves that this craziness does erase
All my memories on the surface of my brain, because indeed
The effect of all of this, while on my way
Is only made to turn away from the problem, but not really efficiently
And then to be alone with yourself during those hard come downs
Mentally and physically in a state of lividity
Avid for fluidity, to stomach our own simplicity
In need of fustigating everything which surrounds us
And all those days, struggling to do the most basic, even though my fatigue is inherent
Cornered, out of strength, but still determined to start again
An endless spiral even though my mind gets sharper
In a world falling apart where Violence gets stronger
Imperfect, perfidious, already lost is the battle
Going on inside us, where we alone are against ourselves
To perfect my diction, to forget my addiction
To stop playing the game of the carrot and the stick
To build productivity, to repent and then fall back still
I teach myself to lie to myself and yet always divided
Between my admitted mistakes and my repressed desires