I see the birds flying over meInto the new electricityI found a map without any placeI found a gap without any traceRound scissorAt the evenings we try to be crazyAnd at the days we are slaves of the crossWhere should we be?Where should we be?At the evenings lazyWhere we can dance on walking hooksRound scissorRound scissorRound scissorRound scissorAnd I'm afraidFor darkened skinIn ecstasyI won't *I won't *In a pieceThat won't increaseLess a foulI won't *I won't **
