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The Fakest Jest

Soul Takers


I’m dazzled by blue lights
I’m realizing that this crowd is full of hollow hearts.
Still lonely on these beams,
I wonder if they creak or they just laugh at me again.

I make-up my eyes with my dreams and my cries,
Playing my role on the stages of life,
Trying to make you laugh,
Ignoring the black of my hands.

Colours of future and colours of past,
Present’s my hope but it’s crumbling fast,
I’m just a fragment of feeling in this dying soul.

A pale make-up, a smiling mouth,
My drolly fakes to hide my eyes.
Me and my hands, in front of you,
Your staring eyes, how could you laugh?

Deeper into my sadness
There’s an image of my thoughts,
Just like a coil of dust.

Falling down into madness
The only refraction of this soul
Is this false smiling face.

« Enviant de ces gens la passion tenace,
De ces vieilles putains la funèbre gaieté,
Et tous gaillardement trafiquant Ă  ma face,
L’un de son vieil honneur, l’autre de sa beauté!

Et mon coeur s’effraya d’envier maint pauvre homme
Courant avec ferveur à l’abime béant,
Et qui, soul de son sang, préférerait en somme
La douleur à la mort et l’enfer au néant »

Deeper into my sadness
There’s an image of my thoughts,
Just like a coil of dust.

Falling down into madness
The only refraction of this soul
Is this false smiling face.

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