It's refrigerator with light reds and blues.

Light reds and blues.

Light reds and blues

bled through the blinds

and into the room,

light in a figure on a stand.

It no longer resembled you, though it looked like you even talk like you

in a language

no one could understand If it pieces the code that don't make it a true,

where hired hands dramatized your year

Through districts and divides, South Euclid Avenue

Bankrupted treasure tests

The places they hit you

Closet hinges undone

Carpet racer bag

No doors on any rooms

No room there's for anyone

But mother husband,

lovers on the sky

There's the smiles of disguise

There's the smiles of disguise.

There's the smiles disguise.

...