Mr. Phantom

Scratching my irritated head
At sixteen o'clock
I was lured again
By meaningless phrases

That root will eventually grasp
The beautiful darkness
Turning its back to the wind
An unknown face, a leopard
Is drawing lines

The invisible vowels
Divide your world in two
The sensation of hunting
The sensation of being cut off
The sensation of hunting
Once again, an unknown existence

The sound of an unknown existence
Don't turn around
The sensation of hunting
The sensation of being cut off
The sensation of hunting
Once again, an unknown existence
Your root in my hand
Breaking and pulling
Things no one knows yet
You already know
You already know