Significaria minar sua própria existência se o fizesse.

Winds float on a dance
Guilty over guilty
Doom over doom
Crying a entire lake
Or a dead bird’s fly
The bottom of a river
These my poor verses
Revealing your secrets
The end is drawing near
For you apples and oranges
Roses, lilies and daisies
An ocean by the clouds
Addicted to the fail
Useless a little bit
So I have to fix it
Afflicted to the shroud
A cross and a nail
Scent and taste of haze
Moving into the danger
Drown yourself in fear
The sound of a cricket
Please show no mercy
A blood-freezing shiver
The skin so harsh and dry
A hell made of mistakes
Looks like an empty room
Infamous and dirty
I need more than a chance.