is there a sense in what I am doing? could there be any reason for my suffering? sometimes I feel my acts are replicated a nonsense, my life is intoxicated I'm just considered a mean of production serving a factory should be my satisfaction they give me a freedom made of blind compulsion trapped in a cage I only feel self-repulsion
feeling dislocated all my senses disconnected memories confused and lost I live between future and past
if I could take the time to think about my thoughts and to embrace my whole life accepting my mistakes I should be able to understand that I'm just dislocated and that the search shall start before it gets too late
lost in a world of ignorance and pretension I wonder where to find again my lost attention I'm hearing nothing but the noise that's penetrating I see the consequence, the damage it's creating recalling memory to fill my whole extension I'll recollect my past to reach the comprehension I see my will give up to distortion shall learn to disobey and start again from my emotions
I'm the guardian, I'm the prisoner I'm the liar, the deceived one I'm the tyrant, I'm the slave I have to fight against my will
if I could take the time to think about my thoughts and to embrace my whole life accepting my mistakes I would be free to feel compassion towards my poor ambition and to understand the pain that lies beneath this sad deception
if I could take the time to think about my thoughts and to embrace my whole life accepting my mistakes I'd look inside myself with a renewed sight and see defeat and freedom - and above all, the light
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