What I'm Doing Here

I do not know if the world has lied
I have lied i do not know if the
World has conspired against love
I have conspired against love
The atmosphere of torture is no comfort
I have tortured
Even without the mushroom cloud
Still I would have hated listen
I would have done the same things
Even if there were no death
I will not be held like a drunkard
Under the cold tap of facts
I refuse the universal alibi

Like an empty telephone booth passed at night
And remembered like mirrors in a movie
Palace lobby consulted only on the way out
Like a nymphomaniac who binds a thousand
Into strange brotherhood i wait
For each one of you to confess