Individualism

You really think you’re different?
Hey? No, but … really?

Beautiful creatures are too fragile
For this world, it’s filthy;
It is unnameable, but probable
That you prefer the accountant.
Falls without the sling;
Blood – thoroughly; feel the affront
(In your grave); On the ceiling, I take the reach.

I’m Sibylle, I rejoice;
You’re not playing anymore, my guts dry you ah!
Every day I get better
Without touching gold;
I corroborate and I perforate …
Even: I perform.

Outside, deteriorate my love
With prejudice and hatred;
I have to do what they say
Or I shall never leave the asylum;
You’re a real factor, you can’t
See my value; you are old,
It’s the game, you’re pious, it’s time
Since you’re scared, you’re efflorescing me.

But I know you have something
Good and beautiful hidden inside you …
As I know I have something
Dark and warm in me …
(We’re made for each other)
Go around and don’t hide forever

Or you will end up drunk in a box;
Work your faults and forces
In the bowels, between the shocks,
SEE:
The blue pill turns red [BECOME]
The red flag is blue [It’s shady]
But the black is white [Good]
Since the White is Black.

Photo © Jean Fraipont