Tip:
Highlight text to annotate it
X
The house with smiling windows
Colours... My colours...
They get out of my veins,
they're sweet, my colours,
sweet, sweet as in Autumn,
hot like blood,
smooth like syphilis,
they run, get into people's eyes
bringing the infection to everyone.
My colours, my colours
they're inside my arm, my colours.
My God... Far away,
far away go my colours
and one has to die for them, open up oneself.
Oh my Goodness,
purify... away... away...
purity... purity...
All my colours...
Son of a ***... Yes, here we are,
My God... Here we are... My God,
I feel he is about to die... He is dying...