Thick fogs change the colour creating images without sense
miserably impoverished by our effort
we walk all bent dragging ourselves along
there were flashes of lightning that lit up of the gloomy storm
in wich we saw every reason to be so.
we have abandoned the simplicity of long ago
maybe only to look less obvious
we have sailed on our sea of doubts caressing the waves of risk
we have shouted to death to fight ourselves
vainly concentrating on our reserch
dirty mind like walls and rough asphalt without reflections
we could shout ourselves to death
we could shout so we don't die
we could shout without being able to die
And now here we are, stretched out in the air
leaving our efforts to the edges
completely soaked, with a saddly hinted smile
and while it starts to rain again we will shout to death
so that storms don't begin in the morning