Nazor's Street
separated graves
ash dispersed glances
and
three times bounced of the chest
my sin
my sin
my sin
reactions are governed by biometeorological forecast
and it happened
somewhere has failed
they took the suits out of naphthalene
turn on the microphones
having a desire to find warmness
and voice to made the lullaby
for bringing back to him
a child's dream
somewhere has failed
it always fails somewhere
he
collects the toys she bought him
only to keep her close
at least until falls asleep
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