(A Chapter of) Trivial Fiction

I'm some kind of stranger to myself
I just don't know of what I'm looking for
In a restless night with all my friends
Don't know for what I'm here

I'm so tired of doing things right
Cause suddenly all of my deeds
Are changing into something wrong
I won't play this game no more

Everything I take for gold may appear as dust
And all the words I listen to may go up in smoke

It takes place like a theatre's play
Where the world and all my values
Descend to a chapter of trivial fiction
And nothing still remains

For the kinship of our souls
Didn't I pay already enough
I have to know it certainly
so may dissemble no more

Everything I take for gold may appear as dust
And all the words I listen to may go up in smoke

(lyrics by Moci)