The milkbrides of the capitol were itching all their lives
Framed photos of exploding cars the day they became wives
What a waste
A rotting mess
They made wounds, they poured salt, depths we wouldn't dare
Could blind you to the holy night as it's hovering in the air
He is only someone's son
It's a task that can't be done, it keeps repeating on and on
The day we left the capitol colours became clear
Someday, you said to me, real soon we'll see through walls my dear
As long as ticks keep ticking in the universe's light
They can murmur to the tune of a million nights