Frankness Of The Pressthroated Person, Who Stays On The Stairs At 5 P.M.
V.I.P.S.
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It's my arm and it's my beauteful eye
My compassion and my running sing
On and on I hear the noise inside me
I think to keep it or not to keep
I was born with a beast,with a hole.
Soul is hole
Enemy lives by my body
He steals my happiness
I don't belong to me
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Blackness... Whiteness
Black pale on the fate
Blister...
Fortune...
Shadow...
Pickles...
Wind.
Take him away from me
Enemy lives by my body
He steals my happiness
I don't belong to me