This is my knowing I must eight

not ate food, eight they, ate they,

sunshines on summer kept in the fridge.

My time travels first so when World end I get there first

Nine is the affraid sunshine at an Early East

flies winged clouds at the bottom of a long women of salt,

Iztlacihuatl is watching from her volcan mountainic dream

It’s behind my courtain brick bridge of poverty neuronal calm.

So cloudy skies from Mexico’s besides know

it taste about rain, fear and smoke from roosters call,

followed the dream sleep of fade realness amount.

Trying to fit the pieces words works by

when all them feel like lies

This is where comes the silent sound of uncertain

Here I am