To swim in troubled waters
for days,
To wait here for the end.
To float in air, too heavy
from almost nothing.
To whom to reach out a hand?
If I must fall from high,
May my fall be gentle.
I found rest only in indifference.
Still, I would like to find innocence again,
But nothing makes sense and nothing goes right.
Chorus: All is Chaos,
On all sides,
All my ideals; the words overwhelmed,
I look for a soul who is able to help me.
I am of a disenchanted generation. Disenchanted.
Who could prevent me from
understanding all?
When reason collapses,
To what womb should we turn to?
Who can pretend,
To rock us in her womb.
If death is a mystery,
Life offers nothing.
If the sky has a hell,
The heaven can well wait for me.
Tell me,
In these adverse winds how do you save yourself ?
Nothing else makes sense, nothing else goes right.