Death of the self  
starts with the death of the will
Lay rest to your ambitions
with every breath that you take,
Escape with your comfort,
escape with your rest, escape with the wind,
escape with the living dead,
escape like the rest of your family did.
Sleep among the numb
while decades have passed,
Sleep through the earthquakes,
the fissures and cracks.
Unknown to your perception
confined to your chains.
The lid can't be opened.
The lid can't be opened.
My life, reduced to death.
I breathe in smoke, I walk through fog,
I breathe out smoke,
my eyes are clouded.
The lid can't be opened
I am dead. I am dead.
A voice awakens in my head,
"Are you dead?"
do I know it?
Well, whoever-whatever- it is, I know how to reach them.