Evidences have scattered
Leaving mysteries unsolved
Recondite riddles, stealthy secrecy
Who knows? It's a game of russian roulette
.
.
.
One little two little three little Indians
Shedding apiece
One fell off the edge of a cliff
While others became a feast to the Lion King
Yet I see no witnesses
Yes, they were left to demise
Nothing has been exposed
They are just falling papers from the peak of a skyscraper
.
.
.
When one finally got a chance to take a revenge
He punched him on his chin
Letting him play a sweet childhood game of merry-go-round
He then grabbed him by his collar, barely caused suffocation
Throwing his cadaver to the Trevi as if it's just a powerless lonely coin
Calling out the doves for a graceful feast
.
.
.
In this empty world of polluted darkness
One will always attempt to avenge
Claiming a snazzy revenge to the concealed charnel
Unveiling every murky riddle of life
Wait for me, sing me lullaby
A dreamy song of death
.
.
.
Nothing left to alter
One may only breathe to see
Witness the reversion of an outraged jus
Dust, webs, and wrinkles from the slanting scale
Imparity that is too arduous to grasp
Eternity shall never rise, ferme ta gueule
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Au secours, venez m'aider
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