How ? How much longer must I suffer from your fault.
If through your fault I am nothing more, neither more nor less than an empty shell.
Empty of meaning, love and feeling.
With a feeling that makes me live, I am nothing more than an undead.
An empty shell with a mission and a goal on its head.
I take my head to love him, to be jealous.
Jealous or obsession, she makes me lose my mind, if she knows the harm I'm doing to myself.
Evil by dint of hitting the walls, by dint of always contemplating it.
It seemed like my eyes only saw her, she has the way to plunge me into an anger, an anger that I can't control when I see other guys approaching her.
Prohibition to approach should be engraved on all his t-shirts. All his t-shirts should bear my name.
No, I'm not crazy or at least except you.
You who refuse to see me, you don't give me a choice. The choice which is none other than to open my veins and to use.
Yes use my blood as ink. An ink that comes out of my heart to tell you, I love you.