Skull of the clock, piles of tiles of numbers
Handful of sand, sending layers to the sea
Yearning of years, the recall of colors,
Sweeping the swamp, freezing wind is playing pipes
Watching the barbwire, hearing the kids cry
Letters lepers liars tires life is light
on the skin then in your dream and out of sight
Trimming the trees, trading days to strangers
Will of the walls driving water to the fall...
Taking a dive into the sky,
Facing the rain until its dry
Glazing the clay, looking through the glass eye
Waiting to hear for nothing to wait for
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