When he says, he says, it's year two, it's year two

How crucial, how cliche. Memory floats and sinks.
Far out there, coming here, passing by.

Is a big tree really there when we are not watching it
Are there sound when a rock crashes onto the ground while no one is there

Being taken away, all away,
I'll still be the same.

Music aren't reachable
not as in the past.
So I follow the sound, the sound deep down, deep there underneath

A world, so called, is the civilization,
with this ony, it turned into Evilization, a kingdom, with such time eating Evil.

The vinigar runs along the throat
Eating it.
How sour, ein Sekunde, zwei Minuten, drei Stunden, vier Jahre. Still sour.

The Guitar I'm holding, losing voice
no more agile pressing, no more pleasing sounding

Cliche, but who is not.

It is not what to believe, it is what to find out.

Corruptions.
Replenishments.
Who's the exorcist exorting the haunted ugly ones

Tiring, How Tired.
Ranting and Whining. Nothing can be changed.
They will not to leave but fight against, they are all the same.
How can such Revolution help, if the skunks can't see further.

One thing I hate, I hate when one does not trust.
Regardless of how many times I have rescued such donkey face.
Knowing that the reason I rescued was...
I pity her, pathetically.

Stupid creatures.

Nonetheless
nonetheless...

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