Print

The disengagement of the bubble is hypnotizingSome say below the doughy crust the beast is risingWe like to talk about the pastWe like to talk about the pastWell we talk about the past like it’s the strangest dream then we repeat the things we never dreamed we’d doI understand that sometimes we all must dance with fuckery, but everybody’s pissing in the well of our sufferingI want to breathe in all the ashes of the books they tried to burnI want to feel the pages in my skin and understand the wordsCastrate fictionCall it circumstanceThey say her wanderings are dangerous – all she wants to do is danceQuestion period’s overDon’t you feel it?I do. You’ll be pummeled by the certainty of minionsIt’s a puppet show, a theatre of opinionsA chorus of flackFeeder of the packYou can hear the shaky timbre of the voices most aloneYeah, it’s easier to sing within the crowdThose who pretend to believe hardest might actually begin to; the nature of the bliss the warmth of ignorance gives intoI want to breathe in all the ashes of the books they tried to burnI want to taste resilience on my tongue and love beyond concernMass-grave subtlety, leave it for the birdsLetras de cancionesThey say the world, it might be dangerous, but all it seems to do is turnBitten by the hand that feeds youHolding to what you’re beholden toQuestion period’s overDon’t you feel it?I do. From Letras Mania