I lose the shape of my words
The more I burn the bare of freedom
Ash wood grows and nobody knows
Art with private language
Every emotional machine disappears
I can feel the death ahead
Another sacrifice and interesting laugh
God proves me
If we, if we don’t feel so lonely
If we, if we don’t feel so lonely
I lose the shape of my words
The more I burn the bare of freedom
Ash wood grows and nobody knows
Art with private language
Every emotional machine disappears
I can feel the death ahead
Another sacrifice and interesting laugh
God proves me
If we, if we don’t feel so lonely
If we, if we don’t feel so lonely
The sentimental piece of heart
The fragmentary nature of life
The organic self never conquers
The sentimental piece of heart
The fragmentary nature of life
The organic self never conquers
s1mple
Nice blyat