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I don't care how happy you are now.
And even, to be honest, I wish you sadness, regrets and disappointments.
Come to hate to dream again.
Everything has to be paid for, but does everything have a price?
To push the female dogs of pain to the paroxysm,
We forget who we are, we forget what we are worth.
I am the shelter, the cocoon of his neuroses,
To make them our own is to accept that they necrose us.
But there will be no more beautiful night than that of their dead.
What a beautiful act of love it would be to kill each other.
But there will be no more beautiful night than that of their dead.
I love you, just as much as I hate you.
That I hate you.
Waste, too bad, no more mood,
The colder the blade will be.
Drink in, all the more so,
From this deluge of illusion.
The swell has passed. Make room for emptiness.