after all afters lie in silence
in breit rooms we sit
reminiscing the fabriks we were built in
covered in this pinkish fabric
the lacks we lack
all the colors we contain
veiling layers of sorrow
caused by this mist we breathe
thinking we actually breathe air
oh never grasping that we kann never grasp air
tossing to the wall on the way to understanding einander
use the wand to break the wand
the wand is what you speak