As we born virgin the virgin we touch.
As we get corrupted, corrupting we touch.
As we born naked, the naked we love.
As we dress, the dressed we love.
As we born within people, people we love.
As we materialize, materialism we love.
As we born within nature, nature we love.
As we raise metal, nature we miss.
As we born embraced by foolishness, foolishness we embrace.
As we get conscious, the mind games begin.
The eternal battle of the great, the vulgar and the poor. A battle drawn years ago, as it is eternal it is being fought today. Under our feet, embracing our chest, in front of our eyes. The no ones' battle, the everybody's war. Disputed together and disputed alone.
The ambition and vicious experience, allied to the insatiable will. That destroy and transform every visible particle in its way. Blind every soul joining its path. Enslaves without being contested or questioned. Softly. Comfortably. Converting our feelings, the bad and the most wonderful, creating on them a new meaning to hide the primal.
We feel good. And we ask for more.
We don't question. That's not our need.
Our feelings adapted to the reality we created.
As the irony gain its greater meaning, deep inside us we know. What we really want. What we really miss. What we really need. What we want to avoid. What we want to give up. What we are tired off. Where we want to run. Where we want to regain our breath. Breathe.
This phobia that flourish trying to hide under our converted feelings. That passively we carry. Irony.
As we raised up the metal environment, in the metal we live.
As we gain new needs, the metal we want to escape. Breathe.
As we let our feelings be converted, we believe we are comfortable.
As we can't live passively for ever, the nature we seek.
The eternal battle has no winning.
As we get corrupted, corrupting we touch.
As we born naked, the naked we love.
As we dress, the dressed we love.
As we born within people, people we love.
As we materialize, materialism we love.
As we born within nature, nature we love.
As we raise metal, nature we miss.
As we born embraced by foolishness, foolishness we embrace.
As we get conscious, the mind games begin.
The eternal battle of the great, the vulgar and the poor. A battle drawn years ago, as it is eternal it is being fought today. Under our feet, embracing our chest, in front of our eyes. The no ones' battle, the everybody's war. Disputed together and disputed alone.
The ambition and vicious experience, allied to the insatiable will. That destroy and transform every visible particle in its way. Blind every soul joining its path. Enslaves without being contested or questioned. Softly. Comfortably. Converting our feelings, the bad and the most wonderful, creating on them a new meaning to hide the primal.
We feel good. And we ask for more.
We don't question. That's not our need.
Our feelings adapted to the reality we created.
As the irony gain its greater meaning, deep inside us we know. What we really want. What we really miss. What we really need. What we want to avoid. What we want to give up. What we are tired off. Where we want to run. Where we want to regain our breath. Breathe.
This phobia that flourish trying to hide under our converted feelings. That passively we carry. Irony.
As we raised up the metal environment, in the metal we live.
As we gain new needs, the metal we want to escape. Breathe.
As we let our feelings be converted, we believe we are comfortable.
As we can't live passively for ever, the nature we seek.
The eternal battle has no winning.
1 comment:
aahahah, ainda não tinha dito nada deste texto, teve que ser para cá vir responder ao teu comentário!
está bastante bom, tens um raciocínio bastante lógico do princípio ao fim! muito bom!
quanto ao puto, quando o vês andar de bicicleta, repara! que ele já tem uma ferida, ou seja, já tinha caído antes! Ah pois é!!!!:D
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