He sits crouched under the stairs
and waits to appear in the same vignette
for years he has been playing a part

He speaks through billions of clouds
he lives in a world of inked paper
no longer knows who he is

Chasing who has not yet become
clearly the writer has no more ideas, while
he thinks on how to move on his story,
he’s in a place where false and real collide

If you chose life, a beautiful place where you dive,
you could think, act and respect your own mind
you wouldn’t be afraid of all that whiteness around
you could draw it and fill it with all the colors you mix

He sits crouched under the stairs
and waits to appear in the same vignette

Last night I made a dream
I could touch, I could see (I could see)

I could taste, I could hear
Paper man
can you feel?

“Wait a second, lets start from the beginning
you have a good job, a fast car, designer’s clothes, easy amusements
you can have what you deserve, you shouldn’t leave us”

I chose life, a beautiful place where I dive,
I can think, act and respect my own mind
I fell good with all that whiteness around
I can draw me and fill me with all the colors I found

and that’s what I’ve found