Il Pianeta Delle Idee

I begin the exploration
It's not a pleasant place
My inflamation is exhausting
There isn't a grassy surface, but ashes
I don't know if proceeding is
Okay, I'll proceed
I dreamt of returning to this planet
When I was in the forest and in prison
But I didn't expect a desert that drowns in its own greyness
Such silence
I don't know if proceeding is
Okay, I'll proceed

I step on incinerated soil
I don't see any living people
Only very vague beings
With stares dull like silverware
Foggy, light, they don't have any weight
It seems like I am the one who doesn't grant them any
I hear their woes
I could turn them into a book like Jeremiah
They're pleading for my help
I turn away
Like cashiers
When I enter the card's PIN
Disturbing shadows on me
They're before me even if I move away
Their faces at times pale, dull
They're ectoplasms

I recognise them, they are ideas
They ask for a body, they want to expose them like playmates
Hordes of spectres, they are ideas
Hordes of: Maybe, might, I don't believe it, no way
They need me (I don't know if proceeding is)
They need me (okay, I'll proceed)

Awakened ideas, oh my God
I thought they were dead in the skull
They got away to the oblivion
To the bulldozers in the hyperuranion
It was done late
Hephaestus is gone and the volcano has dried up
But these alien creatures suddenly make a circle
Like on corn fields, they say
Father, why do you want us orphaned?
If we have gaps, fill them up
Unsheathe the saber, you will be Sandokan
We will be your tigers of Mompracem
I don't reply, I stay quiet, like the silent land
While they ask me for a body like Tetsuro on the Galaxy Express
In their evanescence
I clearly see my surrender
A palisade on my head
Shown off like a diadem
I don't trust them, they're opportunistic
They're mercenaries under Athena
They become an obsession
Until you find yourself alone and in chains
Tide, there are always more of them, these wretches
I hold my breath, I become apneic
I don't carry any more victims on my shoulders
I have built my trench
I crawl as though I'm no longer a biped
I'll never die for an idea
I'd rather an idea for which to live

Do you recognise us? We are ideas
We ask for a body, we want to expose them like playmates
Hordes of spectres, they are ideas
Hordes of: Maybe, might, I don't believe it, no way
They need me
They need me
They need me (I don't know if proceeding is)
They need me (okay, I'll proceed)

Goodbye, planet of ideas
Goodbye, ideas
I say goodbye, I must go
I won't stay here a minute longer
I can't deal with you, I'm sorry
I want to travel freely in the cosmos
Okay, now I don't know where to go
I need a goal
I need an aim
I need an idea