Morning sun
The magic of the wind...

The burning tyres
Scorches the road...

Why so static i cannot find
my angry repulsive ways...

Slides from the projection of life
Child, man and than a senile...

Quiet and awake
Listening the voice from a distance...

Tired of each lie
The circle of broken ties...

Complexity,
fire and the chimney alike...

The beggar on the street
The laughter of the rich...

Silently I looked through the pane
The garden..the land to tame...

(Independence...

There's the temple called love Outside the circle...
Lines of sand drawn between...

Waiting with eyes glued to the screen
Hearing the night silent and still...