Each time I looked at me
I though I was alone
I try to disagree with myself
Our time is null, enjoying our past
Our time is gone, they got away
Don’t remember my time
When I’m coming
You and all the rest
I try to fit in the world
But the world doesn’t fit in me
Didn’t care what I’ve done
Between the memories
Take my head.
Could it do any good?
I dyed the sun with my smile
But my eyes stayed the same
I tried to make the sky with my hands
Our time is null, enjoying our past
Our time is gone, they got away
Don’t remember my time
When I’m coming
You and all the rest
I try to fit in the world
But the world doesn’t fit in me
Didn’t care what I’ve done
Between the memories
Take my head.
Could it do any good?
I will trap me, till my time is up!
No, it is just a small lies feast
of what I do to survive
My love sight is taken by remorse
The clock is playing the song
for the soul poverty of the unknown,
The flying parasite with nothing to eat
The unknown with nothing to wear
The unknown with nothing to wear
They toddle, every bit like marionettes, or drag themselves like wounded animals, or dance against their will, poor little bells
That a remorseless demon rings!
Worn Out. (Charles Baudelaire – Flowers of Evil – Les Petites Vieilles)
Don’t remember my time
When I’m coming
You and all the rest
I try to fit in the world
But the world doesn’t fit in me
Didn’t care what I’ve done
Between the memories
Take my head.
Could it do any good?
I will trap me, till my time is up
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Lyrics submitted by Paulo Miranda.