Not near the mountains Nor near the sea, the country Not near childhood Not near what I know, what I don’t Not, not, not Not into nothing In something Not in words Not in woods Nor in a jungle Not in fantasy Not nowhere Not on my own Not on this page Not with this ink Far from you Far from fucking Far from the language, after the fuck No rhythm Not images No parody of the “no” Of the knot No track of it No track for it No city Not, not, not No punks No anarchy No engagement Not in couple Not in fusion Not separated Not in the body Not in the dichotomy Not in tune Not in the mood I'm in a loop Not, not, not Not on the verge of Not a virgin Not working Not making others work No sense No fear Not true No goal No grip No get away Get up! No purpose, “I’d rather not to” No peace, no power Fools: No kisses, no touch No fight, no food Some friend, some fate No faces No traces In the garden No fruit No danger Some mess, no prophet Not even hairs on legs No valleys Through the window no view No train No song