Reflected in my eyes is your flesh and the taciturn landscapes. Which seem to maintain an infinite distance from that flesh. Will there come a moment when those taciturn, almost meaningless landscapes and your flesh attain equal value? Come here now come here now come here now I hate you Will there come a moment when your smiles and whispers, The lights of the city and the scrap iron of the construction site Unite as the same landscape? Flat vision,a deadend gaze I would rather possess eternal sight than eternal life To always see you To always be me Blow you away blow you away blow you away I love you