There is too much undeclared death, the batrachians, the seas, the hardened souls die, the musk bear hides, the birds in the stale grapes, the thunder goes to graze in the garbage cans...

There is too much undeclared death, the batrachians, the seas, the hardened souls die, the musk bear hides, the birds in the stale grapes, the thunder goes to graze in the garbage cans, my heart sinks green with blue, it turns The sun is purple, sometimes it goes out and wants to jump off all the cliffs