Something a hand would stroke
No part of you will be liberated
I don’t want to ask
We are neck-deep in shit
No part of you will be liberated
The night isn’t that black
We are neck-deep in shit
Its hits are widespread
The night isn’t that black
The naked shell
Its hits are widespread
Where everything rustles dryly.
The naked shell
I don’t want to ask
Where everything rustles dryly.
Something a hand would stroke