Margins (feat. Balázs Bokis)

Most of the time I feel nothing,It's like this body does not belong to me.It doesn't fit wherever I go,I should just throw it away,Toss it in a ditch or abandon itAt the frst service station on the highway.Moved away by the echo of my own voice,When I come back home I'm a foreigner.Each time feels more and more like dying insideBut I still claim that somewhere else,There must be someone who is waiting for me.This house seems unfamiliarDespite I've been here for a while.I wake up late at nightAt the margin of the bed.I see the ceiling melting downUnknown shadows on the walls...Nowhere, I haven't fnd a place yetIn which I don't fucking hate myself.Nowhere, what attracts me seems likeA kind of love based on conficts.The weight of the world is pushing me downLike has always done.I hold still while I get displaced,Watching the edge colliding with the core.I can see the days ahead,I can sense the tentacles in my throat,A razor into my spine every time I lay down,Watching the edge colliding with the core.