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    'Love, just don't stare'
    He used to say to me
    Every Sunday morning
    The spider in the window
    The angel in the pool
    The old man takes the poison
    Now the widow makes the rules

    'So speak, I'm right here'
    She used to say to me
    Not a word, not a word
    Judas on the ceiling
    The devil in my bed
    I guess Easter's never coming
    So I'll just wait inside my head

    Like a scream but sort of silent
    Living off my nightmares

    Voices repeating me
    'Feeling threatened?
    We reflect your hopes and fears'
    Voices discussing me
    'Others steal your thoughts
    They're not confined
    Within your mind'

    Thought disorder
    Dream control
    Now they read my mind on the radio
    But where was the garden of Eden?

    I feel elated
    I feel depressed
    Sex is death, death is sex
    Says it right here on my crucifix

    Like a scream but sort of silent
    Living off my nightmares

    Voices protecting me
    'Good behavior
    Brings the savior
    To his knees'
    Voices rejecting me
    'Others steal your thoughts
    They're not confined
    To your own mind'

    [Dialogue by rap artist Prix-mo
    Reading from the book "Cultural Revolution".]

    "I don't wanna be here, 'cause of my
    Suffering, 'cause of my illness
    Only love is worth having, only
    Love is what matters, loving every
    People on equal terms. "
    "You've got to know who you're
    Dealin' with, because, like a stranger
    A-heh, just might come in through
    Here with a gun... and then, what
    Would you do? (Heh.) "
    "Everything is Immaterial... "
    "'n' you know that reality is Immaterial. "
    "This is not reality... "

    I'm kneeling on the floor
    Staring at the wall
    Like the spider in the window
    I wish that I could speak
    Is there fantasy in refuge?
    God in politicians?
    Should I turn on my religion?
    These demons in my head tell me to

    I'm lying here in bed
    Swear my skin is inside out
    Just another Sunday morning

    Seen my diary on the newsstand
    Seems we've lost the truth to quicksand
    It's a shame no one is praying
    'cause these voices in my head
    Keep saying

    'Love, just don't stare. '
    'Reveal the Word when you're supposed to. '
    Withdrawn and introverted
    Infectiously perverted
    'Being laughed at and confused
    Keeps us pleasantly amused
    Enough to stay. '

    Maybe I'm just Cassandra fleeting
    Twentieth century Icon bleeding
    Willing to risk salvation
    To escape from isolation

    I'm witness to redemption
    Heard you speak but never listened
    Can you rid me of my secrets?
    Deliver us from darkness?

    Voices repeating me
    'Feeling threatened?
    We reflect your hopes and fears. '
    Voices discussing me
    Don't expect your own Messiah
    This neverworld which you desire
    Is only in your mind

    Letra enviada por Bruno de Campos
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