irgendwo in Italien – eher am Anfang
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Free space surrounds the four amps just one
world from time to time in
crossing and touching touching
the sound of four amps |
Untouched
the targets never
moving, paralysed still
they're here, analysed |
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Freely
moving eyes they miss the world sweeping
over untouched goals and the
world is gone, chats and children cries
go on |
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Guided in
Italian, running words are shot and
stranger's names are god Ev'rything
surround by the murmons stones,
traffic, stone and bones |
Untouched
the moon slowly
moving, above the dome till he's
losing, anything that's somehow close to form |