![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEgZ6noS4P9TDgSzJoVv5vu7zxuCBTxcFvroXwWTkjQEMksmcixxc1P0JOASZGXl84ZJJBNHMSDQmQunlTe_NGrNR7QcqxYQ9E81WRewlu2sR-KKeTb0zvMpAbKvnI4oC17CsoT3K0utG1cjjJ_SrdE5hdLlyzbcADPM1J_F51HdK2OXn5n45K61p9/s16000/autres.jpg)
Hugo Santiago Muchnick. “Les autres”. 1974
“… An eye for an eye
A spy for an eye
An eye for an eye
A spy for a spy…”
“… Let's turn it into something we can change
I love you but I'm lost
Between the pain and cost
I hold myself a lot…”
Sometimes I can remember things happened in the past, it seems they come from a world which belongs to another personality. Some kind of detachment feelings, moreover an state of mind that recorder all those fragments memories. A strayed walk, a damaged hands, a dismissed mind, a hopeless heart.
“… An eye for an eye
A spy for an eye
An eye for an eye
A spy for a spy…”
“… Let's turn it into something we can change
I love you but I'm lost
Between the pain and cost
I hold myself a lot…”
Sometimes I can remember things happened in the past, it seems they come from a world which belongs to another personality. Some kind of detachment feelings, moreover an state of mind that recorder all those fragments memories. A strayed walk, a damaged hands, a dismissed mind, a hopeless heart.
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