Sun: Yolk in the sky, strong afternoon, let’s be so weird and half past blue!

Folks in the streets, nothing to say, alive we’ll be if there’s a way to go away with doors ajar…

If you’re alone, I’ll still be too, what a mistake: Being so true! Slugging aside and together!

Don’t talk ‘bout love, it’s jail inside and with that muck, no way to go, sticking again on the birth land, woe an woe there, despair and woe…

Even on march or on he moon, with love we stay where we belong…

Stagnation there and starvation and no, no, no.. I want to go.       

Yolk in the sky and oily clouds.. greasy dressing… let’s stay alive while the time laze!