Flame is the flame rose always a rose Just let your body die embarrassing Stone carvings on the cheek like a glass eye Burst processes slowly Moment after the collapse of Who can afford the pain of dying crash Broken down the middle of this tower is down Each night when the moon is becoming strident music Bell impatiently waved away the drunk Blood can be as numbing as the grass They sat on the floor to the deaf or cheap perfume soaked Outside the ruins in a bolted candlelight Broken stone upside down when the scene was reversed Blasting belly baby from crying out loud, like the spring Smoking throat inherited organ Mother of the sky has never The flesh of this face is always just wry Unlike shrapnel white dove North Korea as a gold gilded wheel throwing dice to Is your night to empty the pockets of every day Every time you throw in the towel and left the other steps under the Locked into the basement of another cement casting Show a lost art itself Where children continue shooting with the naive pupil The destruction of a city to another two-hands Just a toy to play with you again Sometimes the flame in the depths of the flesh and sometimes play Rose Flame and rose another forgotten The tower is too high you can die alone