Fate

Fate is a mirror,
for my soul and my sins,
it keeps spinning around,
as if it were to begin
reconciling ups and downs,
stretching out the time
we have left to live...

Fate is my truth,
my reason, my silence,
it stays all the same,
without all this abstract nonsense;
I am trying to reach out,
I am striving to find a limelight,
wish to draw a picture,
like the one we saw in Florence.

There is a shortage of ideas,
a shortage of gas,
my tank is close to empty,
and I'd like to drink from your glass,
while we drive north of here,
with no direction at all,
fate is nothing but a mirror,
for all my sins and my soul.