Venice is sinking.
Hoping to see you there.
Venomous, drinking in the sea until you drown your cares.
Walls are collapsing.
Nothing but sticks and stones.
Last night something happened
and I woke up on the phone.
Phone your father, underwater.
Tell him that it hurts.
Phone your mother, say you love her
but it's time to call off the search.
Tell them that you're gone.
Venice is sinking. Artifacts can't be saved.
I don't miss anything anymore anyway.
Dancing on that grave.
Nothing is priceless.
Look at us, bought and sold.
I hope that you die a lovely death,
and never get so old.
We're going down.

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