Art Lyrics

they used to

meet in group

Separate jobs

according to task

some are for spring

while the others chose fire

blackness dominates

heat bursts

transparency are on their faces

their mark is a move

they swell

and even closes

they did something

for the bloody room

they are the roots

who crave for water

their crackle are different

as hard as a log

is what they carry

and it pops