Look up my skin,

follow the path in between two muscles forming organs

to shy my blood from your blade,

look into my wide-open eyes,

you know that I am not here.

Colour my bones,

what you found was the next relic

you will study in the research museum of History lab,

the future is willing to know: who lived here before?

I am tired of the serious mockery I have to be for you...

I want to be real,

I want to be sanguine,

I want to feel alive

so I look for danger

at any pace, în any way...

I am tired of being a serious mockery to you

So, here I let myself revealed

In the slaughtering fashion of your duty.