The dream in seven wonders of life
A fantasy shut and felt
Of flesh who demands motion
Without you
in any million roads of doubt
The perfumes are going and nights closed there in
but in no mind
I see myself appear in the rhetoric sun
Random syllables of sanity from my subterranean barometric life
The dream in seven wonders of life
A fantasy shut and felt
Of flesh who demands motion
Without you
in any million roads of doubt
The perfumes are going and nights closed there in
but in no mind
I see myself appear in the rhetoric sun