I didn’t choose depression as the theme of the year,
but let’s face it : death is everywhere
I don’t have the strength to be shiny and all,
Never had it me, I know, to be honest.
But, in which space can I continue to exist
When the icecold walls seems to get closer and closer around us,
Ready to crush our tiny dreams
To a dust made of ground concrete ?
I’d like to find in me
The willpower to cook myself a pot of beans
But where, where will I find any warm fire ?
And i don’t want to sit anywhere around here
I’m juste a good-for-nothing ready to disappear
I hope I’ll bring at least a little bit of humidity to the soil
So something great and green can grow again
J.K