Motorama

She is there

Motorama
Sick and poor
He runs through everglade
Face is covered with grey dirt
Color of his clothes
Bengal Lights illuminate his way
Fiasco for the daytime
Triumph for the night

Who is there
With black feathers in white hands
Her perfume is filling up his head
Weight and depth
Only weight and depth
Bottomless depth
Bottomless depth

And in the safety of her bed
In the nameless place
You know she is there

And in the safety of her bed
In the nameless place
You know she is there (she is there)

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