Lyrics: Florestan Durand/Mattéo Buil-Gelsomino/Amaël Durand
Music: Florestan Durand/Mattéo Buil-Gelsomino/Amaël Durand
I'm not the greatest writer
Oh, I'm not the greatest, no
I'm not perfect, not even novelist
This time you better listen up
Oh, life have barely changed
Twenty-two, still pissed
Plenty of shits in the backpack
And Nikes on my feet
Many pieces are missing
Since I came back home
I can't deal with my own life
I'm incomplete
Another empty wreck...
Shit!
I'm just the shell of a man which is absent
I'm wearing his skin but I'm partially vacant
What I have is far from being gold
But I write open-hearted, my balls in the inkwell
**** it, I'm done with swallowing bullshit
Since hitting it off has become an addiction
I needed more than these words
Going nowhere
To show you that my life is not such a poem
Some black clouds will get so much bigger
No matter how lucky I am
I've never learned how to live with the thunder
My heart is a lightning rod
And I'm walking under a thunderstorm
Mesmerized by the lights.
With my eyes half shut.
I do live through these lines,
Writing this song just to say what I got to
I need much more than these words
Just to show you that it's a struggle
To be able to believe in this life
Hey! Hey!
I write with my heart open
Hey! Hey!
Even if it can be so callous
Hey! Hey!
Just listen
This heartbeat have so much to say
I just can't keep it in
I just won't it in
I'm not the greatest writer
And this isn't the greatest song
I'm not perfect, not even novelist
I'm not saint
I'm not a ****ing prophet
**** this, I'm just drifting
I keep moving pushed by the movement
I'm still trying to pull the strings of my ****ing life
Oh, you can keep the pain, the fame,
The money and the whores
'Cause I'm a body-shaped shell in a sorry state
My friends, you better listen!
This man you see now isn't totally different,
Along the road he thought he'll found himself
A ****ing sense at these goddamn feelings
I'm just the shell of this man which is absent
I'm wearing his skin but I'm partially vacant
What I have is far from being gold
But I write open hearted, my balls in the inkwell
**** it, I'm done with swallowing bullshit
Since hitting it off has become an addiction
I needed more than these words
Going nowhere
To show you that my life is not such the poem
I'm just the shell of this man which is absent
I'm wearing his skin but I'm partially vacant
My heart is a lightning rod
And I'm walking under a thunderstorm
Mesmerized by the lights