Maybe muscle memory goes deeper than a body.
Like lipsyncing to a song that you never heard before.
Dreaming in a language that you don’t speak anymore.

I am angry when I try to sleep.
I am angry when I try to wake.
I am angry when I try to live.
I am angry when I try to die.

Maybe this impossible life takes longer than my age.
Like looking back a couple of months not believing where I was living.
And everything I believed in has again all been changing.

I am finally where I tried to be.
I got finally what I need to take.
I have finally a way out of this place.
I know finally what’s going on but I can’t leave.

So now what again?
Making the best of it and doing what I can?
I deserve to get out and go see what’s beyond.
Although my view is clear.
Clear from here.

But I keep being angry when I try to sleep.
Keep being angry when I try to wake.
Keep being angry when I try to live.
Keep being angry when I try.