I lose the shape of my words
The more I burn the bare of freedom
Ash wood grows and nobody knows
Art with private language

Every emotional machine disappears
I can feel the death ahead
Another sacrifice and interesting laugh
God proves me

If we, if we don’t feel so lonely
If we, if we don’t feel so lonely

I lose the shape of my words
The more I burn the bare of freedom
Ash wood grows and nobody knows
Art with private language

Every emotional machine disappears
I can feel the death ahead
Another sacrifice and interesting laugh
God proves me

If we, if we don’t feel so lonely
If we, if we don’t feel so lonely

The sentimental piece of heart
The fragmentary nature of life
The organic self never conquers

The sentimental piece of heart
The fragmentary nature of life
The organic self never conquers

The sentimental piece of heart
The fragmentary nature of life
The organic self never conquers

The sentimental piece of heart
The fragmentary nature of life
The organic self never conquers