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o que era ele os motores ditos
sentar-se em seu balancim que espera seu chá
brilha a última idade, o seguinte com esperança é visto
não seja falso
como uma vela branca
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
ainda treze anos
eu estou no tempo cinzento frio
o relâmpago piscou, e levantou
uma névoa estava dirigindo para baixo
não esteja irritado com mim
a lua levantando-se escondeu as estrelas
deixe-me mover-se lentamente através da rua

 



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