The bed had springs that fit me between the shoulder blades and dreams as an escape before a raid. there is no Internet to research into the ether and you and me no choice but to shake. You are the sea and so did I but in different worlds. Divided by geography and geopolitics. One day you told me you'd like to do post-production of the G8 in Genoa.
I wake up on the asphalt among thousands of people with the gravel that I was disfigured and you figured if you made a living or blonde. The beer dripping down the back and the desert. Without metaphors.
comes the heat you went on holiday to me. You have to clear my head and hair that is the new trend. My birthday festeggiamolo in semen. As I was not born.
tell me that I might join but I have a turtle's stomach and you get bored just to let me run for miles with wine of Tuscany between the teeth.
I got here.
I thought we got here.
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