It\'s not easy to be different of its own reflection
and to look at yourself in the mirror of life,
seeing a face that is both you and someone else\'s...
I wasn\'t born out of the womb of a supermarket
with its new year\'s sale ,but from a passing comet
that melted in a orphaned sun ...
The angel in a white coat ,equipped with its
evangelist gear ,imposed a vow of silence on me,
inking my spectral sky on a cloud of particles.
A dissociated Mercury in the arms of a loony black moon.
-\'\' Sign here soul ! \'\'
- \'\' You shall score the concerto of the abyss ,
chiseling through orbs, unknowable boleros of suffering,
that will liquefy the hearts of hysterical groupies ! \"
That\'s my fate and faith as a failed poet .
-\'\' kids the hour has come to dream beneath
the eyelid of the devil !
Come and join the storage closet, where Mr. Hoover
will tell you some psychotic stories ! \'\'
It\'s not easy to play a different part .
Grand ma ,I miss your apple pie ...
One day ,you\'ll grow up and that cute little elephant
will look at you with a mean expression ...
You don\'t dare ask your pretty cousin
for the key to the prison of the senses...
Pretending is a skill that can be learned .
One dawn ,the white robed-seraph
with its \'\' help me die face\'\'shall descent
and say to me :
\'\' Please soul ,could you sign here ? \'\'
I would feel so different ,
once the echo of my voice restored for poltergeists !