With every step you take
A tangent is left in your wake
And everywhere you see
Blindly, point infinitely
The spectrum of our time
Makes from its shape of a line
This instance proves to be
A moment reaching endlessly.
With every step you take
A tangent is left in your wake
And everywhere you see
Blindly, point infinitely
The spectrum of our time
Makes from its shape of a line
This instance proves to be
A moment reaching endlessly.
