Something cold is in the air, an aura of ice and phlegm. All day I`ve built a lifetime and now the sun sinks to undo it. The horizon bleeds and sucks its thumb. The little red thumb goes out of sight. And I wonder about this lifetime with myself, this dream I`m living. I could eat the sky like an apple but I`d rather ask the first star: why am I here? why do I live in this house? who`s responsible? eh?SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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