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lyrics

I put the corpse on my face,
The thought contracts the reason,
That light begins with glass and white,
It might return like hidden season.

I moan on the cloth in black clothes,
I fought for my personal silence,
Your brush, her needle, his make-up,
Foretaste indicates sour substance.

And the times passed away,
Faster than the people said,
That we will grow outside in the world...

While our hearts were so young,
And we tried to cover up,
But we were sad, we were numb, we were fucked inside...

Alright?

credits

from Surveillance Of The Environment (LP), released May 16, 2012

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Embassy 516 Dubrovnik, Croatia

Surveillance.
Transition.
Correlation.
Transmission.

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