I could see the souls seeping through the stones on the horizon
on the horizon my movements are drapes in a state of the art
your emotions lack the face I value in my state of the art the oaks are over and the forest is now the shoulder
of all uncontrollable monotony
i pity you who know nothing
while i walk softer than this city my movements are drapes in a state of the art
your emotions lack the face I value in my state of the art