Down the stairs, snail, I look inside.
I am already a ghost, a harlequin, dancing on the floor.
I can't stop dying, you are a strange soul, it makes my nose wet,
Today I am so old. I stop spying on you, I'm thirsty, your mom reaches me. I usually wake up, with a centipede, a back-scratching bug.
I don't stop dying, I'm a focus in a trance.
I'm going to make you laugh until I rescue you.
down the stairs, snail, We have no roof left,
all reality (the truth) is made of cardboard, and it is a good secret.
your evil makes me so good, it makes me make songs.
your evil makes me laugh , always S.O.S my sword.

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