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I have a memory, and thoughts on the heels black spots
I was half asleep and did not understand my life
sleep silent panic gives way to apathy
I hold on to the handrail, and I'm not okay
be thrown headlong into the box
surprise yourself and do not seem predictable
all bored, and I'm poor. and you do not need
because the window outside the beautiful gay people
run somewhere for something. and I tried in vain
your black hair was tousled by the wind
my lonely thoughts turned unanswered
feelings do not fit in the timing of advertising on the ground
I agree one waiting in front, probably
and I stay in a cold bath plant.