Hard hot metal turns to soft flesh breathing,
the sultry whisper purr of the saxophone...

It makes a
hot heart hurt...

At three o'clock in the morning
when phantom wolves are coming...

When the waves are placid
and lucid eyes burn bright...

Sometimes I feel like I am the last one who knows...
Sometimes I feel I'm the last one who believes in...

The past is consuming my future,
it eclipses my present in hollow spaces...

If I've a belief in religion
I'm unaware what it is...

Waking--
there are wolf tracks...

And I just can't understand
how I can smile with...

The rain hits
hard and fast...

The autumn breeze
blowing through my open window...

Here it comes,
this is the daybreak...