Distraught on violence day.
You thought me how to hate.
Gasoline, we have thrown, fire the graveyard.
Spinning gloves will catch your breath.
We burst in exclamation marks from living rooms too small.
There were ten souls from free falling, ten souls from helicopters.
We burst in exclamation marks from living rooms too small.
Short-sighted heart waiting for something...
…like the blood in the snow
like a colour red mile.
We could save it on gasps.
Through all our wet clothes
and these messes are yours.
Yes, we fired the graveyard
and who was it for?
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