#sang
Le plafond n’a pas cédé ce matin,
Suspendus à la voûte de ton esprit,
Le tumulte est resté lointain,
Ou tout au moins contenu, amorti.
Tapis dans un recoin du cerveau,
Silencieux, mais jamais en repos,
Nous tournons en cercles étroits
Pour mieux t’arracher la foi.
Le soleil freine nos morsures,
Les rires sabotent nos détours,
Trop de lumière pour nos blessures,
Trop de vivant pour nos retours.
Nous nous gorgeons de tes traumas,
Le passé aiguise notre ardeur,
Nous chassons là où tu saignes déjà,
Nous buvons le sang de tes douleurs.
Cours vers la lumière, crois t’en sortir,
Nous n’avons ni visage ni colère,
Nous excellons dans l’art de te faire souffrir
Dans les replis obscurs d'hier
Feb 2
Feb 2, 2026 at 4:19 PM UTC
We danced in the heat of the summer,
We sang along in the glistening silence,
We walked in the roads of lilacs,
We caught fireflies in the starlight,
We reached past our limits,
We acted like every day was our last
And what I wish wasn't our ending.
Apr 10, 2019
Apr 10, 2019 at 7:17 PM UTC
There was a very cautious man
Who never laughed or played
He never risked, he never tried,
He never sang or prayed.
And when he on day passed away,
His insurance was denied,
For since he never really lived,
They claimed he never died.
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 5:02 PM UTC
For første gang i lang tid kan jeg lytte til en sørgelig sang, uden at blive trist. For selv de værste ting synes ikke så slemme lige nu. Og det blæser, men vinden er ikke kold.
Jun 7, 2016
Jun 7, 2016 at 2:12 PM UTC
If you give a wishing stone,
she'll travel out all on her own.
She'll leave behind the fear and pain,
and keep herself from going insane.
While her friends are getting diagnosed,
she'll be somewhere in her boat.
Maybe she'll have tea for two,
but at least she'll know what to do.
And they may ask, and plead, and beg to be in her world,
but she'll certainly say,
"Be gone, be gone, or off with your head."
Which should be said, since they cursed her be dead.
If you give a girl a wishing stone,
she'll truly feel all alone,
and for those who never cared "be gone!"
The queen has finally sang her song.
She was never a fool, just a withered small bud,
and those pigs would throw her around in the mud.
So sure she dreams and dazes off,
but she can do whatever she wants.
She earned a bit of recognition,
for all antagonize and inhibition.
Give that girl some cheer,
she fought a war for all those years.
Stop the hate for her being crushed,
unlike some, she had no love!
The glass shattered hard,
it's no surprised it became shards.
Giving time and yells,
doesn't heal, it kills.
If you give a girl a wishing stone,
you've given her one happiness finally of her own.
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 3:43 AM UTC