It loomed up on a perfect day: the glorious return of my hope. They try to shut me away again, I'm almost out of control. Their way will not change, they will fail 'till you come.

I hid behind all these veils (a little disguise is not bad…!). Then it became a symptom again: a big disorder in my head. Their way will not change (instead they will begin a new game), but they will fail 'till you come.

They'll taste my pain, my blame, my rage, my cynicism in rough state.

Should I trust my intuition? It's up to me from now on. No matter how good I can live between states out of control… Their speech will not change (instead they will invent a new disease). But they will fail: I'm in command .

They'll taste my pain, my blame, my rage, my cynicism in rough state.