The whole turbulence is in the middle of sleep now,
The insane beggar has fallen asleep now,
The freaking ashtray has no more aroma at the painting shutter.
The night is walking around the city,
Crawling through the corridor, dining,
Above, through the ****** of roofless,
walking tiredly,
Walking beholden

But the time is not much left now
Glimpy orange at the yarn corner
At the fume of racing yard

Yes, The whole eyes wait for this horizon
Oh darling
Take off your clothes
I am still awake for you..
a void half is empty on my bedsheet
Come close and sleep me...