Dont tell me something / Dont give me something Sleeping with a window of my life I remember you on the sky With me a daily trash that is repeated in your absence Not the fault of our sleep. Your floating Dont tell me nothing / Dont give me nothing please Allow wheat in my accent, doubt the pundits Here that the poem is not wrong / I am drunk / what conscience? No one left even complaining
for me later ....
Nobody is big / Nothing deep / Nothing we are no longer important / The only superficial silence of these books is the volume of these books that are alive The time of lying / history is not alive The illusory place we do. Hit Black Black Sets Green Roots I also walk in your sleep It is not as if you are no longer Oh San Francisico my question Oh Paris Defam Oh Frankfurt Curse Milan Tired Milan I left it
