become eight the G8
tongue is bloddy...

it's not on the crucifix anymore
supernal blood from vine,
useless for desert.
seven dry tongue
not remember
how it's adhere to palate

hear me;
The Pharaoh dead.

your progeny is still looking for The Pharaoh
who will be drowned.

know that,
The Flood's over.

in the Gomorra,
the childrens burned
in their father's sins

in all actions
my eyes look for the subject

your all wishes
for the world
misfired.
your country didn't swinging
on greenery of it's flag

it's not to become all our the best
isn't it?
it's injured.

Pluton already had not a planet

every silence
not to be silent.
every dream
not to fall down
every book
not tell the truth.

the seventh dry tongue
narrated you all story.