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I’ve not been able, to heal myself yet
Of street-prophets’ sentences
My lips are throwing but curses
My laughter is the cry of despair
For a moment too much
For longer to little
It is also dangerous
To forget one’s name
In what purpose, the end is left
The way in its way is confused
For everybody good
Glory to fucking benefactors!
I’m taking in my hands
The act of depression
Which one can get from notary public
To forget one’s name?
Violated thought about the test of the new
I’m asking a lame beggar for advice
To forget one’s name?
To forget
