Soul Collection Extraordinary

I believe in neither love nor coincidence.

They call me dust boy.

Hold watch before my eyes, make a trance.

I'm very tired.

The cold in me flows out in liters.

Fine dry dust, flowing through your fingers.

I can't lift you any higher.

Look away, look away, look away.

So very very tired.

Not that kind of tired.

Yes please, thank you, drip drip, flow flow, stay alive for a few more hours.