All of nothing,
Nothing of all,
The result is the same.

Round and round we go,
Afraid to have our time stolen,
Looking back,
Watching our backs,
Even though there's nothing left to lose.

We got used to the crust,
Living on the surface,
Immersion is hard, but there's nothing without it.
We dig oceans and oceans for some sort of glory
And left aside all deepness in speeches,
All humanity neglected, at a cost of our own.

I have not met true faith
Rather than a future always to happen.
I was not prepared to believe
Better times should escape in-between my fingers.

But the result is the same:
We fight for nothing about everything
Or we fight for everything about nothing.
We only get to choose the way.