the stream of the river the wind from the east the hard life you experienced it is all smoothed down suicidal brother tired of life he couldn’t find meanings under the regime
the scar on your face and your scared ego full ashtrays in cold concrete rooms wrong places to stay no way to fulfil your innocent spirit in this tainted world in this tainted world
in the golden lane of silence I found purity in your gestures through the tortuous path of sacrifice you shaped your body and soul how can it be that your eyes still shines? after such long monochrome life…
wrong places to stay no way to fulfil your innocent spirit in this tainted world in this tainted world