A lost in time, forgotten track colorless, washed out, hollowed rather meaningless if you were to describe it used to write all the time, used to dream in the bus, in bed as well, it has all said its bitter farewell, oh dearie! oh my beloved!, spare me of this cruel misery filled path, I now cross some sort of emotionless symphony worthless effort, faded paint insignificant piece of poetry a fallen ode to legacies, significance and memories, all fantasies dreams, hopes and tales of stargazers daydreamers and hopeless romantics have been lead astray, by this oh this filthy tray of decandence forsaking a mournful heart an adulterated soul...