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Clock hands dividing bodies

tear apart all future programs of my mind

anxiety takes compact and spongy forms

absorb your life skim collapsing

give up any decision

I've got to my sacrifice

and no one matters any longer

in my fucking pleasure I'll watch bleeding your perfect mouth

you know

no more pleasure

wait while your heart is beating behind your eye-sockets

the axe that shears your face

temples under pressure... looks lost in emptiness

my war is made of awareness

dumbness occupies me... freedom of thought defeated

where do you hide your unexisting solution?

we've seen so many

an instant of consciousness

invaded by reality... a nasty sensation

I hit in the mass

I hit inside the mass

I'll break my pain with a bullet and maybe the endless circle

I'll get there alone having nothing to lose

to interrupt myself each time I remember, when I find strength

it's so fucking real

until I almost recover the rhythm of my life

in a real and pessimistic limbo

you know

no more pleasure

I'll toast the sun of a new day

I hit in the mass

I hit inside the mass

following a car that's filled by a coffin

nauseated I consider this useless run to pleasure