A little bit of freedom sneeks into my life
and peeks out in the wild from every joker I meet on my way.
And in every shadow that they left behind.
In songs and corridors, churches and screams.
Everything is one and one is everything.
In towns full of memories or in memories full of towns.
Parrots are staring back at us and the sun has gone wild,
It has escaped from the center of the oval, dragging it self closer to company.
Solitude, huh. Who wants solitude in this possible world?
We're all joint, everything is one and one is everything.
But the parrot sneeked into Eden and burnt itself on its own substance.
Solitude is easiness, but every essence wants a spark of trouble, is it not so?