To go by train to nowhere,
to lose yourself behind a hill's end
to go straight to the open horizon, till my feet are bleeding,
to be far-far away from the people training a smile on their false lips,
and to play ”I’m just all right”,
for all the ones waiting for my fall,
foams around their mouths, the larvae of the wickedness of their skulls, the taste behind your illusion,
never passing with a simple lemon slice kept in your mouth.
"But if you're not going to be happy?"
A friend was asking me
And I’m never able to answer him.