|
Monotony is so over me |
|
It merge with me |
|
It can't hurt me |
|
Though it's empty, never windy, |
|
I'm just strollin' around in monotony |
|
In monotony |
|
In the eye of a storm |
|
It appears I was born |
|
I had taken the form |
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At 12 o' clock in the morn |
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Never quite touchin', no, |
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But never touchin' the ground |
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Half full and empty, my cup, |
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Always just hangin' around... |
|
They ask me "how do you do?" |
|
I tell them that I don't know |
|
They say to go get a clue |
|
I ask them "where do I go?" |
|
Could it be malaise? |
|
Or am I depressed? |
|
Just a life-long phase |
|
I am not indirect |
|
Don't consider me blessed |
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But don't consider me cursed |
|
In this chaotic mess |
|
I guess that it could be worse |
|
I know it could be worse |
|
Monotony is so over me |
|
It merge with me |
|
It can't hurt me |
|
Though it's empty, never windy, |
|
I'm just strollin' around in monotony |
|
In monotony |
