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A heavy wooden door a place where I have been before
I hardly can get through but it´s something that I have to do
The air here makes me cough concrete walls are feeling rough
It´s full of scrambled papers folded high like skycrapers
I'm tired of this so I look back and I remember
Somewhere in this mess I find an old book on the table
On it´s pages I'll confess my everyday life fable
I'm tired of this so I look back and I remember
With papers so thin that it couldn't stand the wind
I haven´t been able to write a single word
Ten feet high I couldn´t feel my face
Wanna get out but I´m stuck in this circle of repetition
Too much shit flying over my head
While a pidgeon lands to my feet and keeps saying good night
What´s that thing I was planing to do
Where are my keys my socks my head and my courage too to break out