.believe.

The last eighth of the track runs out.
A drop is the last seconds of life.
And he goes, and I went and got lost, and found myself
blood is the best farewell

And I take the cocktail of sweat
dump to look at what I am not
in clockwise, in the key of the piano,
to poem where the protagonist is not love

One is what hurts the skin
what lies at the knees
and prayer in which I believe
one is only skin

Doors open backwards
a contradiction is the blessing
This want to fly and die
end of this fool