And then the groans, delivery, time, Crimes, screams, war, the alarm ...
The yellow sun, the streets of hard quarry, beggars, policemen fat and slow ... they run!
I do not know ... No, no, no, no, come on! Enough clichés, finding perfect orgasm, the endless tick of the contradictions of the shadows, madness, from small talk. Yeah!
jumped into bed, to the streets, we sought refuge from the present, the future present. We get drunk, kiss ... time desperately poor, love so hard, enjoy, we lose, we grow, we complain, we die, we die, we become dust, memory, forgetting, silence, crunch.
(Behold, God requintea inexorably, with well-defined sonic snake know silver and metal of Belgium, and the circles they move on their heads, and crash into roars of elephants urbanites).
When the sun rises the sun explodes, the sun rises, it gets the sun comes out again, to express themselves, are displayed, they are consumed, to live, living, they scream, they yell ... loneliness , life, really. Damian
Mictlantecuhtli Calderón.
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