I'm not the greatest writer
Oh, I'm not the greatest, no
I'm not perfect, not even novelist
This time you better listen up
Oh, life have barely changed
Twenty-two, still pissed
Plenty of sh**s in the backpack
And Nikes on my feet
Many pieces are missing since I came back home
I can't deal with my own life
I'm incomplete
Another empty wreck, sh**
I'm just the shell of a man which is absent
I'm wearing his skin but I'm partially vacant
What I have is far from being gold
But I write open-hearted, my balls in the inkwell
f** it, I'm done with swallowing bullsh**
Since hitting it off has become an addiction
I needed more than these words going nowhere
To show you that my life is not such a poem
Some black clouds will get so much bigger
No matter how lucky I am
I've never learned how to live with the thunder
My heart is a lightning rod
And I'm walking under a thunderstorm
Mesmerized by the lights
With my eyes half shut
I do live through these lines
Writing this song just to say what I got to
I need much more than these words
Just to show you that it's a struggle
To be able to believe in this life
I write with my heart open
Even if it can be so callous
Just listen, this heartbeat have so much to say
I just can't keep it in
I just won't keep it in
I'm not the greatest writer
And this isn't the greatest song
I'm not perfect, not even novelist
I'm not saint, I'm not a f**ing prophet
f** this, I'm just drifting
I keep moving pushed by the movement
I'm still trying to pull the strings of my f**ing life
Oh, you can keep the pain
The fame, the money and the who*es
Cause I'm a body-shaped shell in a sorry state