There's someone who pretends to upholster this world by red roses.
Some people are still able to die for a country
while we gaze at a sunroof called ozone opening upon our heads more and more,
while we ignore the disappearance of an animal species per minute.
But our minds cannot go over thoose mountains over the snow.
There's a man who's still looking for a legendary king dressed in gold,a man able to create sublime poetry or commit a demential homicide, The El Dorado story never stopped. Deceit is the only tool you have to survive, you pick up everything you find, and so you lose every sign of a past you think never belonged to you. All the things you think to own are actually unreacheable, they're only the chains you call freedom.
Tell me now, tell me what you feel in front of this landscape of sadness and confusion.
Tell me now, tell me what you think to know.
