The song of celestial property in the attic
will burn The ceiling down
or in the head,
where the clouds and little shining fireballs, waft wildly,
you shouldn't see such things,
with your own eyes,
when you can’t stay awake,
I sleep because I don't want to stay awake. Only people who have vision can be blind,
I'm afraid of my heart...
What spilled down
from a mostly cloudy mind,
Where angels hands wash the feet of *** in the middle heaven.
I'm here because I haven t died yet.
You're here because *** woke you up.
I can't wait until all whales sing the same song, and the aspirants
run to the lips of the deep water,
Now they will cry all the way through life,
they will spend their lives searching for the island, and never find it...
Where will you pray
when your language is unknown to Angels,
when the sun turns
and devours the moon,
then cast its torn corpse
down to Earth,
The West is a rabid fire,
The rumbling earth collapse mountains in the South lands,
It'll be too late for peace,
The song of Peace is the cry for war
that day, the clouds
of angels hands
will break the sky.