Makiladoras

The Living End

Makiladoras


Whisper to me the lullabye that can put me to rest. What sweet secrets do you scream? 
(death comes to me). 
His symtpoms arise of a chance to end this suffering. I can't see my time with these ocular lesions draining my soul. 
One last dance with the children before this harsh winters comes. 
"Go into the ground", [it whispers] this winter whispers to me.