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Maître de la moisson (Emmanuel)

de Rody Mboka

He thought one would not hurt
He thought he had the control
Who would stop when he wanted
But the days passed
The number was increasing
And he lost control
Clear nights wanting to calm the nerves
Spending all the money to kill the will
Leaving aside the advice they gave him

One would not make a difference
I would stop whenever I wanted
I would not lose control
I'm not an addict

He abandoned her and missed her
I wanted her to come back
I wanted a way out to forget the longing
But longing always came back
The smell the taste were marked
Marked in the back of the mind
And they stand there waiting
In a moment of despair
To have the much-feared relapse

One would not make a difference
I would stop whenever I wanted
I would not lose control
I'm not an addict

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