White Line

Dust comes, dust goes,
one more sigh will hesitate
over the way I'm losing my consciousness


Is this thirst to feel alive,
I go walking, looking for a door
that lead me to my deepest thoughts,
or I might be trying to avoid them


Suddenly everything is lightness,
among an avalanche of passions,
in this rainbow of melodies
I go looking for the treasure
at the end

And suddenly everything is darkness,
in these stairs leading me back to earth
as I'm falling I recall the way
that nothing extinguised this anxiety
to stay high


I run away from reality once more,
is that a shadow or is it my past?
everyone seem to laugh at me
in this final thrill,
and they seem to be so gone


This anxiety to feel alive,
this anxiety to stay so high...