We don't have sex
Celestial dragons friends
Frigid and astral our eternal laugh
Celestial dragons friends
Maybe it's rotten

The secret of the submission of the person
In the crowd I didn't know
Eat up yourself to vomit it up after
As worms of death the moments are creeping

Angst that turns into dropout and freedom
Adherence that never gives off
Though it's already mature
Maybe it's rotten
Sickness of the dead storm got froze
Sickness of the ice storm got me strong