aybe you can think we are pessimistics
obstinated, that's OK
this is your point of view
we're not truth owners
But we want to know what you have to say
if you agree, our condolences
if you dischord scream loud
prove that we're wrong
we are god's faeces
from the point that lam
The references are so incovenient
I can feel the cry of the children
the sadness of the man
the lamentations of the ancients
everything is so real
it hurts me deep and cut my flesh
the lover's treason
