Gray, gray world
A sad, simple design
No expression
Or time for reflection
Light does not exist here
And besides the cold
Weather is naught
The eyes of the people
Are the eyes of a corpse
Mouth pieces of a world
That doesn't have time to care
About anything
So for most here
Death comes at sixty or seventy
If they aren't seduced
By the magic world
Through the noose's viewport
Look inside with caution
