The grey wind covered the last windows with dust
Where are all the souls?
Buried and expelled
Degenerated to ghostlike shells
You can see them behind weak backs
Bended, their face buried in their hands
Corroded by poison, paralyzed by ether
Fading figures
Where is all the yearning in their leaden faces?
They hunted it down and killed it
Drowned in wine and estranged via syringes
Set into whores and paid with cold
Disembodied, gasping, I tumbled
In the flush of a thousand cold lights
Through this night of neon
That I'll never belong to
Zeige deinen Freunden, dass dir Minusmensch von Lantlôs gefällt:
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