A little piece of ourselves

I am consumed by the light of day 
Drunkenness in certainties 
The offense in consensus 
Consume me a little more 
To the point of delusions of grandeur 
To the mirages of a life
To the sadness of the seasons 
Listen to the sirens song 
In the draft of a sentence 
Listen to the wind behind you
Whispering to the silences
I am what I am 
And it doesn't matter who I am 
Only a plot 
From myself 
You are what you are
And it doesn't matter who you are 
Only a plot 
From yourself 
I cry in your eyes 
To flow down your cheeks 
And die on your lips 
Feel the light 
In the oblivion of a night 
A murderous madness 
From this little life
Listen to the sirens song 
In the draft of a sentence 
Listen to the wind behind you 
Whispering to the silences 
I am what I am 
And it doesn't matter who I am 
Only a plot 
From myself 
You are what you are
And it doesn't matter who you are 
Only a plot 
From yourself 
Forgotten memories 
To the hell that eats away at us 
On the threshold of forgiveness 
In the mirror of our sorrows 
More than reason 
I will get the collection 
Of these immense follies 
To the new curvature 
Listen to the sirens song 
In the outline of a life 
Listen to the wind behind you 
Whispering to the sentences 
I am what you I am 
And no matter where I am 
Just a small plot 
From myself 
You are what you are
And no matter where you are 
Just a small plot 
From yourself 
I am what we are 
A forgotten mirage 
Who shines only by these pains 
A memory gone by 
Who shines only for these chains 
I am what you are
And it doesn't matter who we are 
a little piece of ourselves 
A little piece of ourselves 
A little piece of ourselves 

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