Every morning, when he's awake The taste of, of high-end No laughter, no laughter The taste of, I'm in his palms The smell of mope From concrete walls No laughter inside the homes Every morning, when he's awake The taste of, of high-end No laughter, no laughter The taste of, I'm in his palms Only (wound is errupt?) New pair of shoes (To send the?) the skin whole Alone walk in the valleys of Tomé Alone walk in the valleys of Tomé