It was the envelope covering the emptiness. The one turning the arch into a monster, the one turning simplicity into difficulty. Breaking the landscape of this too ugly world with passion for the ephemeral. Confessions with any make-up. Confessions turned into risks by an untactful brain... with passion for the ephemeral. Rivers turn into snakes unable to read the fight of the eagles, suffocated by the fumes of the unsupportive ships of a world turned into a show. From the pleasure to the surface, and from the scorn about hidden of the shattered fibbers by invisible moths. And from the pleasure of the moths in the surface.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.