To concentrate on more that meets the eye

As a matter of fact, I never imagined myself writting this lyric in here. But, as a matter of fact, as time runs out, you turn your head back to the past - the one that catches you up as you run faster (we, know) - and you realized what's been going on, which one is the explanation for it, and, fuck them all, the consequences.

I could blame myself, I could really hate each little one who has been part of the downward spiral; I could really talk bullshit, nonsense and all those things repeated over and over again without an effect (but, actually, gorgeus theory points).

For some reason I'm older, so for many reasons I won't do it. I'm tired of violence. Even when I live in this country and the idea of getting any progress here is everything but healthy; you just want to shout it out, shout it out like a privileged cell who's the one at the top and the infection is getting late to touch her, but she know it will happen if the measures are not taken.

And then you realized, once again, you belong to the nearly First Sucker Generation of this madness event. Shouldn't be surprised of anything, broda.

I'm really sorry. I didn't want it. I didn't know exactly what the fuck I was doing, but trying to survive. Anyway, Patience is the real mark. When she's there, she'll stay. When you care about someone, you waste patience. Water wets you, and fire burns. I was only asking for patience. I was doing, as any ego would confirm, the best I could.