Spleen Black Metal

I have more memories than if I were a thousand years old
A big chest of drawers cluttered with balance sheets

Hides fewer secrets than my sad brain
It's a pyramid, an immense tomb
That contains more dead than the common grave

I am a cemetery abhorred by the moon
Where like regrets, long worms crawl
That always linger on my dearest dead

I am an old boudoir full of withered roses
Where lies a jumble of outdated fashions

Nothing equals in length the limping days
When under the heavy bottles of snowy years
Boredom, fruit of dull incuriosity
Takes on the proportions of immortality
Now you are no longer, oh living matter
Forgotten on the map and whose fierce mood
Sings only in the rays of the setting sun