(no subject)
In silence, stoned to death by their thoughts
Still another day on a lesser level.
Shadowless gestures
What century must we look at, to see?
Ferns, ferns, they might be sighs, everywhere, sighs
The wind scatters the loose leaves
Strength of stretchers, eighteen hundred thousand years ago people
were already born to rot, to die, to suffer
We've already had days like this so many days like this
day that swallows up the wind day of unbearable thoughts
I see men motionless lying in barges
Out of here.
Whatever else, out of here.
The long knife of the wave will stop the Word.
Still another day on a lesser level.
Shadowless gestures
What century must we look at, to see?
Ferns, ferns, they might be sighs, everywhere, sighs
The wind scatters the loose leaves
Strength of stretchers, eighteen hundred thousand years ago people
were already born to rot, to die, to suffer
We've already had days like this so many days like this
day that swallows up the wind day of unbearable thoughts
I see men motionless lying in barges
Out of here.
Whatever else, out of here.
The long knife of the wave will stop the Word.