City that breathes the soggy melancholy
of mornings without light ,
desolated bottles lying on the gluey
gutter\'s lips ...
Sub \'station \'\'Lone wolf \'\'
Flowers are only for virgins and graves...
City that speaks a thousand languages
of silence and indifference ,
frozen margarita in the fridge,
my only future ...
It\'s raining on the city,
the tearful pages of a faded book ,
drift on the great collector\'s canal
of illusions ...
Brussels breaths out humid
and fungicide homicides ...
Sub\'station \'\' Death surfer \'\'
Before the big bungy to eternity
a guy on the platform listen
to the violins of discordant loves...
The pavement around the terminal
is damp from the nocturnal sins ,
a skeleton draws the curtains
of a dawn epilogue that stinks
of sour champagne and semen
Brussels plays dirty couplings ,
girl\'s dreams ,consumed by fatality,
wrecks and sea men ...
I feel alone broke and down ...
It\'s raining on crumbs and cores,
Sub\'station \'\' Serial dealer \"...