The hour of conception at night
Coughs are bloody purulent
The hands of the clock are spinning

The instruments play and play
The notes split and die
People walk and are silent
.
It seems that the roles of action cinema are fixed
The positives are stuck and the negative feeling of denial
They are working...they think they are living
Maybe they are happy to live

At work, they think about sex in the middle of the night and in the middle of the night.. They are all smart
They touch each other's neck for seconds
They have a better group

Living and dying go head to head
They don't get enough, they get pregnant again, even when they die
The seconds tick by... they start singing

It's as if they don't have the patience to repeat duplicates anymore
They are no longer repeated...they become new...with each...