Every morning, when he's awake
The taste of, of high-end
No laughter, no laughter
The taste of, I'm in his palms
The smell of mope
From concrete walls
No laughter inside the homes
Every morning, when he's awake
The taste of, of high-end
No laughter, no laughter
The taste of, I'm in his palms

Only (wound is errupt?)
New pair of shoes
(To send the?) the skin whole
Alone walk in the valleys of Tomé
Alone walk in the valleys of Tomé