It's what the ground asks for
My brown shoe
Of fake leather, dirty
Which is also natural
When the flock is hovering over
The forehead, I pass
Stampeding, hurrying
So sudden
In the confusion of the hours
Of a new character
Everything will get lost
It's in the firm sky
That time relies on, relies on
It's what the ground asks for
My brown shoe
Of fake leather, dirty
Which is also natural
When the flock is hovering over
The forehead, I pass
Stampeding, hurrying
So sudden
In the flutter of the mirage
Every youngsters, in a carnal movement
Will cross eyes, mouths and all vanity, and all vanity
The clockwork of the pulse
There's squint1 on the Earth
Nowadays there's got to be more
For the absence of the past
It's what the ground asks for
My brown show
Of fake leather, dirty
Which is also natural
When the flock is hovering over
The forehead, I pass
Stampeding, hurrying
1. Strabismus