Hut-Depressive Age

You're breath means leave taking cause the cancer is marching My bird dies with lost wings Wounds will heal, but the scares will remain In this hut where the childhood lives are the tales of the moist future eyes Your warm whispers in water drops count the symbols for the blue times Proud walks our landlord with his magpie in our yard What will become of him Mother's tales let his evil symbols rain In this hut where the childhood lives are the tales of the moist future eyes Your warm whispers in water drops count the symbols for the blue times Lamps break the chill of this night In nooks of my sight Calm in the smell of your clothes Your shoes have no more walk with you Burn,hut, burn forever! Pearls for magpies and love to ashes! In this hut where the childhood lives are the tales of the moist future eyes Your warm whispers in water drops count the symbols for the blue times Future is the multiface Future is the short gold trace, the coincidence-machine and the all-answer screen