À la recherche du temps perdu...
Wonder what my life will amount to
Perhaps just a little, but will it do?
No no it won't, as I keep comparing myself to you.
A putrid life, a death on hold,
Decomposing, as time unfolds,
À la recherche du temps perdu...

I'm a smile that mirrors yours,
I'm a saying that echoes yours,
I'm the blank page, and the story is yours,
Can you see, I'm all yours,
Without you I would never be,
The life I've got is the life you've given me,
Which means I have never been.
Which means I have never lived.
My history, blanche.

À la recherche du temps perdu,
The nineteen years shadowing yours,
The nineteen years of mindless recitation,
The nineteen years of vaccuum, of words shrivelling, of protracted infancy
Give me back my tears, my laugh,
Give me back my history,
À la recherche du temps perdu.