The city is breathing
It feeds on us
Mass of machines
Brings pain
Forbids breathing
And pushes its grayness
Inside you
Lunatics and pigeons
Are whispering while staring on us
Some of those places
Tomorrow they will be gone
Crushed by other
Slit by dead asphalt
It feeds on us
Mass of machines
Brings pain
Forbids breathing
And pushes its grayness
Inside you
Lunatics and pigeons
Are whispering while staring on us
Some of those places
Tomorrow they will be gone
Crushed by other
Slit by dead asphalt