The echoes of the past,
They still find the way.
My vision blocks the problems,
Trough the ways of an illegal kiss.
Four eyes are watching me,
I stand and I'm confused.
It's like a zipper closed my mouth,
And there's nothing for me to say.

A beautiful dress.
Marvelous... Futility.

Fear raises it's hands,
As I see them walking trough.
I can't have it and grab it,
I can't touch it or love it.
I want it's smell,
I want it's taste.
Can I only remember the positive times?
I think so.

[inaudible]

There are times of joy when the novelty and sensation of the situation completely disconnects me from the ongoing struggles of the everyday life.
Yet time passes and you begin to fully understand the sensation, and pase it in your reality only to realise that you cannot contain something you really want.
Something you were happy to understand begins to be an everyday tumor because you are unallowed to posses what you know.
It's almost an insult to injury because you are a burdened person that has to keep quiet about it. Keeping a dark yet beautiful secret.
It all comes down to the humanly flaws and I have only me to blame for it. My adolecent years.
I do my time. Again, time after time like a wave of air full of human coughs which were the result of a really bad tea.
I can feel the breeze of the wind coming at my face while I drive trough the desert road at the speed of two hundred miles an hour to nowhere.
I want to be irrational and unreasonable. For I am angry. And I'm productive till I'm angry...