Futile Future (The Misanthrope)

How our life is so futile What a fool to think about a tomorrow Joy is so furtive When your pulpy kiss meets my lips I do not believe in tenderness anymore Henceforth more than simple promises Go behind our distress in our self-cloak We are just livid embers of futility Futile future Futile future Futile future Futile future How our life is so futile What a fool to think about a tomorrow Joy is so furtive When your pulpy kiss meets my lips Futile future Futile future Futile future Futile future We are everything except extraordinary I let my lots to the human sorrow So where, who will I conjurate my demons Simplicity is the power of a being, so be I I do not believe in tenderness anymore Henceforth more than simple promises Go behind our distress in our self-cloak We are just livid embers of futility Futile future Futile future So be I