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I.F.K. - 2-1
We fit together so easily,
That we turned into a pair of rusty nails.
Now insomnia and boredom
Devour the bones of our best days.
Love today is
Like a bird: without wings,
On the floor of a dirty cage.
It would have been more honest to
Make love for money! For money!
No one is to blame,
All feelings are a surrogate.
Infidelity, substitutions, ecstasy on demand.
Like in a nightmare,
Everything is against us.
Thousands like me,
Thousands like you,
At the edge:
To plunge into the abyss of an unfamiliar soul
Or to go alone to the end.
I picked you up at the landfill,
You danced on the ruins of childhood,
With a vagina turned inside out,
And a plush pillow instead of a heart.
Blind lust boils under the skin.
Blood, sweat, and semen have firmly glued us together.
You say that we are alike in many ways –
I don't believe it! I don't believe it!
It's all in the past, but I haven't forgotten anything…
And the smell of lies in your hair.
If you subtract one from two,
The cardboard house turns to dust!
I don't want everything to be
Like with others:
The fleshy exploits of half-children.
The roar of passion has long subsided,
And the tunnel is empty…
Thousands like you,
Like me –
Unwanted by anyone.
Thousands like you,
Like me –
Forever flawed.
Thousands like you,
Like me,
Fill the abyss