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wie er wer Geist in der Flamme des Mittages
aller Tag zum Aufpassen der blauen Welle sich zu kräuseln und zu brechen
in den mournful Zahlen
Einfachheit
Bruder, bin ich Feuer
im September
drehen Sie nicht Ihren Kopf
achtzig Jahre haben und mehr ĂĽberschritten
mit Lippenblut Rot und Herz des Steins
könnten wir aber zu wissen
er spricht nicht gut
ich habe sie in der Nacht gehört

 



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