Cut, copy, paste...
Cut, copy, paste...
Cut, copy, paste...
Cut, copy, paste...
Cut, copy, paste...
Ctrl X, Ctrl C, Ctrl P...
Ctrl X, Ctrl C, Ctrl P...
Ctrl X, Ctrl C, Ctrl P...
Ctrl X, Ctrl C, Ctrl P...
Ctrl X, Ctrl C, Ctrl P...
E o ciclo repete-se...
Cut, damn you’re out!!!
Over, forgotten, dispatched!!!
Free again, free, free from this that was only you and me, certainly me...
Copy, is my heart playing tricks again?
In a universe of 8 billion, and there is only you. No copies, just you.
The fucking torment of uniqueness!!!
No copies? A better version maybe?
Something of the sort?
No just you... No copies...
No copies... no copies... You...
Paste!!!
Paste!!!
Paste!!!
Aaaarrrggghhhh!!!
Paste!!!
Copy & paste!!!
Why make a copy if you don’t paste it somewhere... The copy always gets pasted!
So you’ve been pasted in the fucking rag of a heart I have...
Ctrl X!!!
Hurrayyyy!!!
Free from that torment of a copy, pasted to the heart!!!
Bless the ignorant, bless the one that never knew...
I was blessed for so long...
Ctrl C!!!
Here we go again, another ride through the realm of pain...
this old friend. The land where hopes and dreams are made of glass and thrown by a non stoping machine against the wall...
Millions of hopes and dreams, thrown over and over again...
Billions of little pieces, the glass copies multiply themselves to billions of little glass copies...
Copy & paste...
Pasted little glass copies of hopes and dreams into the linings of memory...
Pasted: stuck into memories!
Once pasted, once created, a memory can’t be undone, only forgotten...
Millions of little memories, of what never was, of water that never went under the bridge, that never reached the sea...
My only ally is cut, cut so deep that maybe nothing will be left, but don’t stop keep cutting...
Cut, cut the string, cut the chord, cut the heart, cut the soul.
The only thing left will be me standing tall, hollow but tall... that will show them all!!!
Your body can survive, overrided of the frenetic frenzy of cuting, copying & pasting... But CUT comes first, and the winner takes it all, I presume.
No one dies of love, but no one really survives...
