The word factory

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...