A provocation to loneliness, when all the best ends up into a grand march that doesnt fit you. Insisting looks and cheap perfumes on trampled sidewalks are aggressions that I wont answer to. I try, I swear, I doubt, I fail, I tried, I tried, I tried. Just another witness aint seen it coming. I was sitting there and yes I could still watch silhouettes dancing, with some kind of interest. I aint seen it coming, month by month experimenting the distress of not seeing sense in the cadence of bodies. Im sitting back in a place and watching the world declining, slowly as a granpa. All wrinkles drawn with millions of shoes used on the side of complacency. Its simply not for me. I tried to give it all sense. I tried to love perfume again. I tried to give it all meaning. I tried to remember. In the morning of my world, all loved has ceased. And in the end it is only you, me and the violence, with no kinda limitation. Before the death of all hearts, when all love will cease, the hope is saving. Give me a way to see clear into this foggy sea. Slowly we walk to the end of our dreams.
tried, perfume, month, sitting, granpa