Shut your mouth
Maybe travel south
You have nothing to say
Nor games I want to play
Be quiet and still
You' re making me feel ill
I want to be far away
From you and led astray
Hold your hands
Safe in the sands
You know you should
Only if you now would
Pin your ears back
Turn your insides black
Little by little
Choke on your own spittle.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem