We could all be something else
We´ll celebrate every defeat, cry over victory
It's what happens when north is south, and south is north
Were the question, were the answer, the problem and the solution
Break everything to make your way through
Disoriented and unconscious, inertia allows for the delegation of our guilt
Like worms we come and go over the bough of life
Without reason we blame nature for making us such useless and ugly beings
Blind useless and uncapable of specifying sacred sacrifice
Ignoring the possibility of flight
We could all be butterflies
Just to see the sun
The sun may come out even on the darkest side of the night,
We just have to cut the sutures that join our eyelids