The bones
Cryptic tales
Father... The boat we're sailing
Is sinking, water is pink
You can see the bottom
There are lot of flowers
... It's not water
We're sailing in the air
Darkness is coming
We have to hurry
Is sinking, water is pink
You can see the bottom
There are lot of flowers
... It's not water
We're sailing in the air
Darkness is coming
We have to hurry
Silence that surrounds us
Cuts the bird's wings
From the shadows of her face
I read my future
Clouds are mavel
Strings of the sky
I cut them with the wing
There are sounds of the fight
They're boxing
Mother... I don't want to die
Everything here is so colourful
The wind told me
Where we're sailing
The moon's bones are close now
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