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Crush this boring starving time

In naming days with insults

Helping the seconds to trap the minutes

Allow time to finish itself

Aged, often bitten by the needle

The horizontal being wrinkles to speak

Of course you can escape from it

Just bribe the sky and its offspring

Snatch this breaking distance

Embrace infinity in my house

Measurement, frustration

Kill the journey, kill the eagle

That's it

Leave space for a close thing to become*

A faraway not the same for all

Except when it's high and low

Directions should be a place

A place that soaks itself

Flesh, only the body

The flesh, worse than the mind

Worse than the brain projecting failures

Directions should be a place

A place that soaks itself

Mind, worse than flesh, worse than ennui

A tale for this flesh, to capture it

It's the reflexion of the eye,

Brain wants to want, brain wants to sell

Life doesn't exist, or sometimes

When it's too hard to die without

then it flies, to a god

No... to me

But probably not

*in the song, the lyrics are actually "Leave space to become something close" but these are written in the booklet