Psicostasia

Lots of disease can't spill out my mind
Too much pain my eyes have seen
Lots of hurts have passed me by
As it could appears like a daily routine

All the dirt touched by my hands
Every time I fallen again
Indifference, hurts and revenge
A mixture that no one seems (able) to understand

Scars
Which show who I am
Scars
Hidden to my friends

Take a look, empty places
As a book with empty pages
Surrounded by absence of truth
Strains of a past which needs no more proofs

Scars
Which show who I am
Scars
Hidden to my friends

Fragments of glass, stronger than walls
Pasted one by one in my own new world
Walking on this fragile ground
Fading sounds, things disappear
I'm my only antidote

Confined with myself
Avoid chaos in my shell