Brazen Tongue
I have the feeling that this feedback is washing me off of any identity
Loosening up the safety bolts screwed down my very self
Barricades falling one by one
No longer an actor, just a mere bystander straying
I have no doubt
You breached my spirit
I loose the grasp of my string of thoughts
A cloud of shouts clashes through my ears
These wordings, so strange, incantations boiling out my fluids
All I can comprehend is my soul is softening, beaten by the brazenness of their tongues
Gutted, ethereal and distilled, I'm their tiny delicacy
Pummeling my skull with a brutal infancy
I develop compassion for your condition
So devoid of any substance yet explicit
Is this the genesis of your doctrine?
This cunning sponger takes control
As I'm becoming nothing more than a blueprint
I loose the grasp of my string of thoughts
Why should I follow you if only for the high you're giving me
Let me cut short and call a spade a spade, this is proselytism
Learn who you are, hysteria stricken mime
Run away from this place, my child
Your jaw can dance, hold your tongue, flee?
Writer/s: Matthieu Romarin, Jerome Colombelli, Steeves Hostin, Igor Omodei, Benoit Friedrich, Arnaud Verrier
