Everything flows within the river.
Oh, mother of god, what have you done?
All the flowers, fire burns within them,
life builds up in the smallest blocks.
You see a garden with a crick
and think to your self I wish I could be rich.
Two white Ardeas walking throw the grass.
Why are they together like us?
Realty is a lot like a web of trust,
instead of cat and mice, let us build something nice.
