Ciao Baby   
Catch the rhythm   
While the Spartan slaps on the ground   
The moon shines on the screen of our sleepless nights   
As an ideal self-image.      
 
Transition point   
Until the last molt   
With coprophagous sequences   
We will bleed the Tibetan maple dry   
Last trauma before abundance.      
 
In the effect of deep nature   
Deep female voice   
Accompanying the last litany   
For promised birth   
In the time to come.      
 
The clouds roll by   
With slow breath   
Towards the Italian border   
From right to left everything changes   
From left to right like at home.      
 
The sun of the party   
Flood the terrace   
For heavy flying beetles   
Inoculate the harsh response   
At the cornucopias.      
 
And sail the world of entertainment   
Full use of trinkets   
In front of the common medication grave   
In an emergency to live   
In these irreversible times.      
 
1307