I water a wound that won't grow.
Hide away what people show.
All  my diamonds turned to coal.
When in Rome, I moved so slow.

Her infinite heart and sheds of rusted skins,
is flying in on concave wings.
Makes my clouds...
...just...
...drip away.
I believe all her lies...
I believe all she says...

The sequel to a sound goodbye.
Mapped dead ends and empty wells.

Syringe,
syringe,
syringe.

I love the way the concrete sing.