We, who had lost the world,
Fine line between desolation and vertigo
In praise of the loss, I'm drowning
I miss our beach in love,
It's frozen and alive
Deep boredom of melancholy,
I remember the passengers,
This sickly joy that I was trying to get
Everything becomes empty
I don't know where to go tomorrow,
But I want to leave, to discover new
Stations, intoxicated and drunk
I will only stop when the pharaons will come back