Motions
Giuseppe Cardamone
Pragmatic fight, a circle of demise
While my blood turns
Eternally, black to white
The meaning of space
And time I misunderstand
Starving rebuilt
In a monochromatic dance
Stronger I see, always behind my back
My thoughts and sins, fragments of myself
Eternally destroyed and rebuilt
While reality's a grey wall of nonsense
Eternally black to white
In a monochromatic dance
Fragments of myself
In a grey wall of nonsense