Egocripta (Angol translation)
Here I am...
in the city where rust floats,
suffering the hysteria of history,
on the scaffold of my vanity.
How are you?
showing you golden tooth to everyone,
confusing the most insolent ones,
celebrating in a special way.
You are the mirror of my vanities,
you are the half turning against me,
someone blurry, I'm not thinking in anyone,
you end where I begin.
I hear your voice...
it's the ordeal of ancient men,
who squirm confined in their tombs,
like a worm inside it's cocoon.
I know you very well...
you enjoyed all my bitter resignations,
you pledged relief to me and you made me,
give up my desire to plead.
And I wonder who you are,
who you are, who you are.
|Köszönet||You can thank submitter by pressing this button|