Fragile pasts come to crack in the future
When foreign old smiles come to poke and amuse you
Who has the fault of having no ghosts?
Who has the fault of carrying one soul?
This place is dead when you\'re here in the morning
Leave me behind on your brittle white story
Put me on wait until I have the chance
Outright rejection, the present will lie
And I\'ll stand on its back waiting, grieving and hoping
My family\'s wide
They will need more than loving
Among many smiles
I seep out when they\'re coughing