Advance - Black Therapy

I breathe the same air, not taking care of myself

Forced to walk on a cutting edge, the balance is lacking

With precarious gait, and the usual spirits are always around

Stare a point and go straight, head on the horizon

Bite the bullet and feed yourself with what you find

The more you go on the more things you’ll have to protect

The more you advance the more the spirits will rage

Whispering voices call my name but I don’t care

Between wrath and anguish, between sadness and spleen

When the will leaves you and the sight tarnishes

When the strength seizes up, when the glaze go down

Beyond the clouds, you glimpse the origin

From which you escaped and that you regret

It’s the place where the enemy reigns

The only one where you can hope to cohabit

When you’ll be teared to shreds, the spirits will subside

Choose between a slow agony or an endless sporadic sharp pain