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"the x-ray of my constellations staints the art of it's doubfull Believe the branch delight , abducts the harbouring feeling Did the our quiet really worry a temple of whispers can't grate the chapter a story about fuss to yearn The unwilling newspaper has nothing to say yet reveals the art to play the roar of the attraction with analytic eyes we never had to force love snapped by a picture we drank the poison and forgot by railing the thought as maddening nothingness when i was you before our time stretched out under the sheets wrapped in a endless butterfly touch conceal me love the thought of me alone when i kiss the daylight away awaiting for the sulken sun"