Illusions paired to my body,
Left no air to my brain,
All this fake easiness,
Arrests me without chains.
No ideals to defend,
No one wanna be protagonist,
Taking a place in the front line,
Turns you into main aim.
Disposable freedom,
Hirable trust,
Rentable friendship,
Unreal world.
Primordial instincts under my skin,
Pull me to fight the windmills,
But for what to be the walking knight,
If there are no giants to fight?
Rushing into a labyrinth,
I run away from myself,
All despair and wildness,
Take me to my hell.
Unlimited lands to crawl,
I wait for the end that never comes,
Wasting years of will,
Somehow in grave it kills.
Disposable freedom,
Hirable trust,
Rentable friendship,
Unreal world.
Primordial instincts under my skin,
Pull me to fight the windmills,
But for what to be the walking knight,
If there are no giants to fight?
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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