Désenchantée

Swimming in the troubled waters

Of the days after

Waiting here for the end

Floating in the almost

Empty atmosphere

Who do I reach my hand to?

If I have to fall from high

Let my fall be slow

I only found peace

In detachment

Although I would like to find innocence again

But nothing makes sense, and nothing is going well

Who could stop me

From hearing everything

When reason is collapsing?

Which saint must I devote myself to?

Who can claim

To carry us in their womb?

If death’s a mystery,

Life is everything but easy

If there’s a hell in the sky,

The sky will have to wait for me

Tell me how to go about it

In these adverse winds

Nothing makes sense any more, nothing goes well anymore