Living. Storming, monday's rainy.
Into wilderness and bewilderness holds among our feelings.
Should be Tuesday, Mondays I hate.
All of the week. All of my feelings. I love you.

Living. Should be living, not dying.
Into my world yours will be forever.
And your charming meaning of everything. Mondays I hate.
All of my love  to you, my darling.

Living. Weakness of starters.
Into my weakness I surrender to your honesty.
Should be Tuesday, I would not love you.
All of the rain can fall in Mondays.

How important knowledge is, north is south when west is east.
In frenetic use of ease, when lines are dispersed by incorrect use of these.
Meaning knowledge can be news, when news are new and they inform.
When plastic's gold and this is news.

How important knowledge can be, inflated news, so overrated.
Streets inform, informants guard.
And useless thoughts, they are all useless.
In the useless world, where everything is news.

I've been told about your scars.
That have never been spoken of, like problems in the vatican.
Like problems we have all, scars we all have.
You are killing me.

I've been told you have some pains.
In your muscles and bones that subconsciously stretch.
Like subconsciousness that stretches.
You are making my pains stretch.

I've been told you have now prints.
In your thumbs like passports for journeys.
So close I want you, all alone you travel.
You are killing me with your prints.

I've been told about you bursting.
And the rage that goes along, like some stars do at night.
Like stars that burst just like you do.
Your bursts that **** me, they literally **** me.

I've been told about your scars.
That have never been spoken of, like problems in the vatican.
Like problems we have all, scars we all have.
You are killing me.

I've been told you have some pains.
In your muscles and bones that subconsciously stretch.
Like subconsciousness that stretches.
You are making my pains stretch.

I've been told you have now prints.
In your thumbs like passports for journeys.
So close I want you, all alone you travel.
You are killing me with your prints.

I've been told about you bursting.
And the rage that goes along, like some stars do at night.
Like stars that burst just like you do.
Your bursts that **** me, they literally **** me.

I've been told about your scars.
That have never been spoken of, like problems in the vatican.
Like problems we have all, scars we all have.
You are killing me.

I've been told you have some pains.
In your muscles and bones that subconsciously stretch.
Like subconsciousness that stretches.
You are making my pains stretch.

I've been told you have now prints.
In your thumbs like passports for journeys.
So close I want you, all alone you travel.
You are killing me with your prints.

I've been told about you bursting.
And the rage that goes along, like some stars do at night.
Like stars that burst just like you do.
Your bursts that **** me, they literally **** me.