Cursed be bipeds, we must rise and walk.
The toxic bowel poisons and drags me away;
Then spits me out, half-digested.
A sad and hostile castle stands.
They dream of crowns, covet the throne,
but weary, lonely, my hope is not to reign.
Back in the bosom by Green Magic,
the mirage only hides from pain and misfortune.
So let's go to sleep... and do it again.
Would you take the red pill?
I was born to swallow the other one.
(But consciousness is stronger.)
Disguise or show off ! Time to choose ...
The pain is still around and one must go on with it.
Keep it close and keep feeling it.
The condition of the inside not to be forgotten.
The hallways are empty but the veil still glides.
Pilgrims abounding of new causes convince me.
The stifling bosom is not safe anymore,
And Green Magic now is flooding me
with courage and confidence.
The moat is widening more and more.
Dash and propagate! Time to fight ...