Pandemia The Tones Are Weaker
When there is a storm inside
And your feet don't touch the earth
And you are trying to take fog
Into the tragedy of a moment
Your sleepy awareness
Giving out that screaming tone
You stay hammered
Under the screaming bells
And you wanna move the different spheres
And new taste of face
Chained under the rush of your thoughts
Your questions, your indecisive decisions
You concentrate on this movement
Into dying
Great moments of dying
Intoxicating nonsense for dreams
Hands fondling your breast
The light hands
Stop the feeling
And hold it for the upcoming moments
