Fangos

I don't have time to ask for forgiveness
For my presences and absences
The eternal fire pulls me
And I hold onto it like a beast
And it tightens the noose around my neck
But it also leaves a mark
And in the castle of 'I love you' I am sand
Incandescent silica
I walk eternal odysseys of internal struggles
For not asking the direct question
As it was in its origin the dagger
That pierced through my ancestors
That left a repugnant fear
Of smelling bad, losing one's mind, screwing, of growing old
If you hadn't been good
This sap of my war wouldn't have sprouted
If you knock on my door

If you knock on my door
Between craving to be loved and then pushing it away
I have enough for a lifetime
Action possesses me
My little ego, baby, the singer
And I take care of her, I sing softly to her
And I only look at her
At night I put on the disguise
Whip of a certain hair to the razor
I don't always dare to express
These desires I have to be possessed
In case someone misunderstands me
Another says no, and some other gets scared
And I walk in uncharted territory
And I warn you, that phrase is not mine
If you hadn't been good
I wouldn't have these demands on my list

If you knock on my door
Come with flowers and songs
Don't bring me other muds
I have enough with mine
Because right now you catch me
With my heart in gardens
If you don't like these honeyed words
Cross over to the other side
If you knock on my door
Come with flowers and songs
Don't bring me other muds
I have enough with mine
Because right now you catch me
With my heart in gardens
If you don't like these honeyed words
Cross over to the other side

If you knock on my door
Come with flowers and songs
Don't bring me other muds
I have enough with mine
Because right now you catch me
With my heart in gardens
If you don't like these honeyed words
Cross over to the other side
If you knock on my door
Come with flowers and songs
Don't bring me other muds
I have enough with mine
Because right now you catch me
With my heart in gardens
If you don't like these honeyed words
Cross over to the other side

And the old lady from the street
Has seen me go up to the apartment
She enjoys imagining
While her stew burns