When I gazed up, I saw a hectagon-shaped sky. Your eyes, as cold as 100 degrees below zero, failed to notice me, so I gripped my freezing cœur, coeur tightly in my hands, which were already glittering with sweat,
in this town constructed with sweet and amer concrete.
Into the far distance, towards the faraway sky, our voice will be able to fly away. It'll rise higher and reach anywhere, no matter how far.
This town is filled with rules of the egoists. My hands and feet are tied down par these heavy chains. Yet, because I don't want to be dragged par others, I'm still struggling hard to free myself.
Do not erase your answers, for I will not pretend not to notice. Do not hide those thoughts in your hands.
In this twisted world where others have command over me, I'll montrer toi what I can do, par screaming in my own voice.
In the far distance is our future, which nobody else knows and nobody else can erase. Believe in this thought that's pricking us deeply and powerfully.