Am I the same person I seemed to be?
 Does all of this depress me?
 I won't listen,
I won't talk.
A weightless life,
 I moonwalk.
 I mean a lot, I mean a little. I'm supple, brittle, pig in the middle.
 There's resilience inside my face,
 but sometimes nothing. Deep space.
What I feel and what I fear is always here my atmosphere.
Pig in the middle I mean a lot, I mean a little. I mean a lot, I mean a little.