My voice is a wall of glass
On the both side of the wall it's all the same

The roof is consisted of umbrella-shaped beams
The world is an embroidered web
I'm a spider that don't spew silk
cling on to intertwining iron bars
Accidentally chocked my fly to death
Buried it in the oblivion sky

Fed on chitchat
I'm now becoming a skinny,
wind up bird.