The word factory mechanizing my soul
spinning relentlessly in madness hours
I am the neurotic clock worker ...
Nothing stops the system,instructions are lost.
Slave of a foreman who has is office in my brain.
I would like to escape and taste distant islands,
but the boss will wait for me under the coconut trees.
I would like become stupid like the crowd ,
but this one will offer me thousand inspired masks .
Maybe become reasonable and take a couch and kitchen wife ?
Only girls protecting themselves from reason
with seasonal winds hold my heart ...
It\'s 5 a.m .I am the twilight zombi of a gray zone ,
the cogs of the machine start like a bully story ...
One day a word will get stuck in the canvas ,
I \' m going to die in the end of this carnival ...
But what\'s the point of believing in after\'s life rest ?
The machine will be there and waiting for me...