Tour D´horizon
She told him the truth about her living
About the wasted days, the things she is giving
The d**, the lovers, the course of the disease
He only said: stop bothering me! Please
He´s sitting on the floor, it becomes routine
The nightly desire not to be so mean
But then he gulp down love and hate
He won´t escape from the force to perpetrate
The child is always living in the morbid room
Its just a wasteland and filled with gloom
It´s body has been declared a war on it
It´s a finite story, no good will come of it
Women are not emancipated now
Yes, its just a hope, to bring the whole thing
Into a better form, than this ruling norm
Noone, can ever say, how we should act
To make the whole thing, perfect
But if there´s no real solution
Isn´t it senseless and full of confusion
Humanity is still acting paralysed
The fetish has not been recognized
Until now there´s only unsuspecting life
On this system called bona fide, we dive