Bunker of the escape key
In the room of fluid walls
Nearby the intersections in realtime
Rain is buzzing through the spirit
Painting vanity made from insanity

I who have nothing
Night seeds under the moonlight
Cursed corners in familiar buildings
The escape key is lost

Did I think I could walk away?
To run away from the ones escaping
Preempting them
In realtime

Hoping for a better tomorrow
To find somebody
Distraction from sorrows
By the intersections in realtime

I who have nothing
Scribbling over paper to forget
Love's another word for revenge

I who have nothing
Lost under miracles I been waiting
The night seeds are bloodred
In fine black soil
By the intersections in realtime