Tour D´horizon She told him the truth about her living About the wasted days, the things she is giving The d**, the lovers, the course of the disease He only said: stop bothering me! Please He´s sitting on the floor, it becomes routine The nightly desire not to be so mean But then he gulp down love and hate He won´t escape from the force to perpetrate The child is always living in the morbid room Its just a wasteland and filled with gloom It´s body has been declared a war on it It´s a finite story, no good will come of it Women are not emancipated now Yes, its just a hope, to bring the whole thing Into a better form, than this ruling norm Noone, can ever say, how we should act To make the whole thing, perfect But if there´s no real solution Isn´t it senseless and full of confusion Humanity is still acting paralysed The fetish has not been recognized Until now there´s only unsuspecting life On this system called bona fide, we dive