Misanthrope - 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

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