Road is bumpy, thoughts fall over,
They cannot do a single step,
Your face is prisoner in a high tower,
The bridge is facing a real gap.
...
Slowly rises the Sun:
Weird days that hurt!
Escaped from the fun:
The silence hit the bird.
...
Mad reality cracks the cheap dream,
Your face is diving into white mud,
Butterfly rustles on whithered shoulder,
My sigh is painless as a cold flood.
...
Hanging high all these skies
Shield the life in soft cradle,
The Blue touches and hits my eyes,
What I can see is a black candle.
...
She dances on my ropes,
With her run-trained super legs,
The stress stretches my hopes,
The lost roads make my maps.
...
Here comes the Sun,
The Mother of the warmth,
But where is the fun:
Stolen by the worms.
...