It's not the Sun that burns
But your eyes that give up
They look, but stop seeing
and curl up and dry

It happens to the hands
With the silver chains
The redness is an indication
But only eyes know it hurts

Without these,
we lose the touch of things

But I can still sing
Sing alone in silence
No ecos and no noise and
just one frequency in my head

I can't even hear,
the sunset rain cleansing the outside

But do I know the grass is wet
If I can't smell the green?
Can I really know,
if the drops don't sweat to me?

Things are beggining to lose sense
Oh, but I will taste the air

In the red horizon winds
Just when the Sun is going
When day becomes night in seconds
I wanted to taste your lips

How can I know you are there,
if my world is senseless?

I just know...
Perfection shows.