So how does one get out of something like an addiction?
The smoke that fills the room intoxicating time to bend,
Dancing on the floors in little twirls, to seduce will to decay…
The ever growing appetite calling on the blender to hurry.
There’re going to be guests in the house of the old man.
Few words spoken amidst the thousand candleflames chuckling
The noises whispering with the dusty old glassware and cutlery.
The wines will be flowing, the grapes crushed for the bees.
His old beloved’s had plunged down from a lofty cliff.
The smoke’s been burning thus for years and years,
The wines flowing, and all the wax finery will one day melt,
The ground, where everything always find a way to return.
What hope does he have, or what hope befell on these,
Little hearts so torn up to not understand these tragedies.
That chance, mere chance begot them of…?
What of the orchid flowers of temptation,
The sin that offer a heaven of forgetfulness and fantasy?
But in the drizzle of your paradise you’re washed clean,
Of having committed prostitution with death.
Addiction is bad they say, it makes you live a lie!
I say being good, you’re not living the truth either.
Death is inevitable, the day will come we’ll give up anyway.
Being good, you’ll hurt more lives at the end.
Or die scared to death, reality was not real,
Stuck in an asylum you’ll wonder if people weren’t real.
You’re the single human prototype stuck in a virtual illusion.
Some stupid experiment in a stuck up madman’s lab,
Who calls himself God.
Do you want to get out of misery, take the first step soon,
And ask yourself for the truth, and ask a thousand more times.
The scary truth is inevitable, because you’ve known it all along.
Something you can never give up on, cuz’ you’re just hooked on.
Forever and ever. And you don’t care if you don’t win it there.
And still, you just can’t give up. Can you?
Obsession, you call it, I call it love. Just love.
At last, but what happens to the one who gives up on life,
Fearing that she’ll end up loving living it too much?