♪

I can't remember how I came to ground

my such innocent taste for sleep,

no more able to find inner

the way to swim outside this "RIP"...

what rip is it ? on my hammock,

a ripple when the candles smoke...

and when the glass, broken by heat,

made in heaven, reflects the past :

this nonsense way to dead countries,

this awful path to no exit...


♪