I live in a house without a balcony, without a roof
Where there are not even bees on the jam jars
There are not even birds, not even nature
It's not even a house

I left some words on the wall in passing
Of the corridor that leads down to the car park
Some words for the grown-ups
Not even insults but
If someone hears them

Answer me

My heart is afraid of being walled in between your ice towers
Condemned to the noise of passing trucks
It dreamed of fields of stars, of daffodil necklaces
To hang on the shoulders of girls

But the morning drags you running towards your habits
And in the evening, your forest of antennas is tuned into loneliness
Whether the full moon shines
Or the south wind blows, you, you do not hear

And I, I see your superb dogs with icy eyes passing by
Carried on cushions that the masters kiss
But to touch hands, you need passwords
To touch hands

Answer me

My heart is afraid of getting stuck in such a small space
Condemned to the noise of passing trucks
It dreamed of fields of stars and rain of daffodils
To shelter on the shoulders of girls

But the last of the fairies is looking for her magic wand
My friend, the stream sleeps in a plastic bottle
And the seasons have stopped at the feet of synthetic trees
There is only me left

And I, I live in my house without a balcony, without a roof
Where there are not even bees on the jam jars
There are not even birds, not even nature
It's not even a house

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