As if God spat His sharpest prayer into my dough

 

I have a savior complex. 

I don't know why, why and when I became like this. 

While being kneaded in the mud of God between his strong fingers, 

Perhaps because of the water of heaven poured on me, 

Then I will be cooked in the flames of hell in the oven of God to become strong enough. 

To fall into this world, 

To not break when we fall. 

This world market is our destiny, after everything. 

But we dream in vain, thinking as if it will happen in the end, 

Dreams tell us about the yesterday we have forgotten, my love, 

Never about our tomorrows...

I have a savior complex. 

I don't know why, why and when I became like this. 

I am just a black and white badger running towards lions. 

I am crazy about this steppe, these dry grave-yellow barren meadows. 

I am just a black and white badger running towards lions. 

It is as if my only duty is to wrap that fear around their necks that they use to catch their innocent prey. 

I don't know why, why, why believe me. 

It is as if my madness has been mixed with my mud... 

Even if I want to, I can't shake it off. 

I have a savior complex. 

I don't know why, why and when I became like this. 

While being kneaded in God's mud between his strong fingers, 

As if God spat His sharpest prayer into my dough... 

10.15 God's saliva has infected all my wounds. 

The paradox of wet bread, raw meat...