usually this place is not mine i go north and south but not
here, i listen to foreign songs everything here seems to rip
a piece of me, long friends against the well, short hair
for the unrecognized guest charcoal lines that will be
smudged in no time, circles on the verge of sucess, thick
lines that remind you of innocence

it's the same thing but her i am trying to change the chance
and everything seems to pour into small holes of scent
small holes ans glimpses of time

this is the second step, it's always the second step
i hope everything will happen now, the dreams and the clouds
i hope everything pass now, reach the next level in different slices of time
like an orange, like a lemon, ike a hidden fruit

one hope to finish things the right way but could be
some form of truth that things
                                             finish us


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