You’re at the bottom of the deepest abyss.
How many forgotten childhood dreams.
You always hated autumn with its wicked caprice.
In the whiskey bay you’re looking for calm streams.
There are no goals or guidelines.
All sights were shot down.
Life!
Death!
Emptiness!
Silence...
Your spirit is unable to create drive.
Broken compass glass.
Groundmass.
Dead grass.
Wrong ways.
Fake rays.
Dull days.
Last blaze.
Your spirit is unable to create drive.
There are no goals or guidelines.
All sights were shot down.
You’re at the bottom of the deepest abyss.
How many forgotten childhood dreams…