Billions of stars
Putting up their charred sails
Fake suns, end of orifice
Air-conditioned, come back, come back small
The stalactites
Want to wall me up
Come back, don't mess around
Without you, my case
Is out of date, out of date ©
The little brothers
Magazines
Leave me their keys
And I move away
Into the doorframe
Pages turned, turned
Come back, come back little
In my box, eroticize
Come back, don't mess around
Without you, my case is out of date