Diary Of Dreams E.-dead-motion
Long, lost faces jump off fences
Taste the fall on bloody lips
Sit up, bend down
Connect the masses
Grounded, reduced to soil
Feel, fake - reject my touch
Shiver, shake - don't trust my language
But still it's up to you!
How can you cope with rare conditions
That you've caused by yourself
Never try to understand me!
Never try to face my faces!
