The moon is burning, it's romantic in blood, it's a primitive fear that dominates everyone, and it's the absurdity of life and the short echo. You want to find someone to make up for all the irretrievable things you've done.
Go after everything that's still, and stop moving in hot air. Every playful living soul is crushing my heart in this instant. All I can do is hold you. All the romance is my blood, I'm too tired to lie down in the invisible, and everything is so far away from me.
I'm a drug addict who can't put boring, stupid self-deception bullshit in my head, and I have deep, romantic and inescapable loneliness in my blood. In the face of daily excrement, without greatness or miracles, I stopped my desire in the face of unnecessary suffocation.
I am dead, I will die, I will love you with death, and the sun has gone out, and I have drained the last force of my body, calling out to the ancient spirits, raising your broken body, and finding your long-lost dream.
"But there is no need to be afraid that nothing is over, that in the light of the sun, the moon is slowly removed, that the sun once again slowly shines its light towards the Earth, that the Earth becomes warm again, that a deep sense captures all and that they survive from darkness."
Except for the two mushrooms that are dying.
And a God who screwed up everything.