O dear there is music in my ears
I swear...

The odio...
revised a little...

You run upon the lavas of all your fears,
though...

When music is fine
what difference does it make...

The reason we keep on going
is that we are not going anywhere...

They are pages
that time...

liberty is not a hymn or an anthem,
a slogan...

She was crying
like I could never stop her...

I saw your cold body,
I hugged your cold body...

Hero is a woman who has been bitten,
raped, convoluted in her loss of dignity...

Crescent is your laughter
the slit of illumination...

Just a touch of death
is what sometimes bring us back...