Penser l'impossible avant tout
Brûler nos prisons dorées
Oser l'utopie jusqu'au bout
Seuls les fous nous ont fait avancer.

I can not fly. My wings hurt and are not suitable for flight.
But I dream of me rushing up to the golden stars an hour before dawn.
I dream about how I carry the sky on my shoulders and stubbornly try to reach the horizon, where the golden ray of the Sun is breaking through.
I dream of how the wind is filled with the smell of alarming, but grandiose changes.
I dream of boundless strength and power that overwhelms my soul and body. Which allows me to change the world and bring righteous justice.
A heart breaking out of a golden cage is full of righteous anger, trembling trembling, and the desire to never stop.
The dream of a wingless madman.