These Strings

I can feel how the blood runs out as I see the bonds losing their strenght. Every inch is like a thousand miles and every pause, time well spent.

Feel the tension beneath my skin, this residing anger. And I wouldn't know how to bring them in -projections to this possible dissaster-.

Go back, turn back the minutes; the minutes who run me by, they tie me up to this goal-oriented life I seek. And as went dark, the meanings; the meanings who brought me up and made me up are chaining me to what I never want to be.

These strings are firm. These strings are tight. And though they hold me not, they keep me from untying myself from them and put a price over their share of what they have in mind.

These strings are firm. These strings are tight. And though they hold me not, they keep me from untying myself from them and from their eyes over their share of what they had in mind.