Earthworms burrow in the arteries
Jammed in the tunnel, summer and winter
They move like automatons
In a sad and flat conformity
Doing their job without asking questions
To the ploughs or at the end of a hook
Enriching the one who holds the line
Swallowing all the nonsense that is lined up for them
And as it's boring among the earthworms
Where boredom has become pathological
We give them toys, sleeping pills
Life in one hundred and forty characters
And if they are well aware of this nonsense
Very few dare to deviate from the pace
Like a huge deflating balloon
We don't wake up the comfort that snores
Often bitterness enters the dance
And in front of the failure of their existence
Envy and slander strangle them
Anxiety tightens their heart like a strap
Sometimes when they've had enough
Earthworms emerge to the surface
Struck by their own contradictions
Sick of seeing that the world is not round
But they must be starving in hell
For them to stand and remain united
Most prefer to save their behind
Rather than blowing up the can of worms
So cynical, they return to the dark
Chanting that they don't want to know anything anymore
And everyone does their little damn thing
At the bottom of his hole with his blinkers
Earthworms burrow in the arteries
Jammed in the tunnel, summer and winter
Dragging their little misery in a sling
Always afraid of the light...

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