WINTER ( stream of consciousness) :

i offer gauffres , in the room , there is light, and syrup and the coming of sweets
tarabum and dance in the room , and round and round, like a mirror of sound
i found you , you found me , but we didn't found eachother

you have a vest, it was bought in the west , you gonna wear it for the test
oh baby , i'm coming from the garden
and the sun is mellow, the clouds are yellow and the moon is in the room , can't u
feel it's presence, can't you see it staring at you , have it's light glued on you
and now you're stuck with its touch

seconds and dreams, money screams, while its falling from your body like leaves from the tree
and the sum of all parts, is more than a cavelery march
is gonna cut you up like sliced bread and it's eatable head oh man it smiles when its dead
lift me, up from the street , into carriage, the mast tails you , like a silverprince
carry u across the vast continent into an Asian tent,
mint fragrance loneliness , surrounded by serious faces just pushing, the horses died,
they're going trough the green meadows and talk strange language, it's your language

upper town , they're sliding their sleighs across the icy rivers,
they're handing out chestnut puffs, you'r eating a bitter moment
and swallow the frozen seconds
puzzled by boots, you decide not to look up towards the face
and recognize a person only by embrace