when there is nothing left,
I learn to swing
in the autumn colored leaves.
Put a black cloak on
and fly towards unknown destinations/
so no eyes could catch me in their sight.
Burned my being from the desire
to be invisible sometimes.


When there is nothing left
I make love your bed, 
to the sheets I have left dirty...


When I feel like I have lost it all again,
another thought flies into me,
it crushes directly into my brain,
and then I think of your lips.


I think of your lips kissing mine...
Then I think of my lips only,
and how you have left a hard present on them...
and then I start kissing myself...


oh the joy profound in my sickness;