The wickedness of chocolate cake.

This ilk of thorns were dug into me. In the cybernetical sense, in the real sense as the silhouette in the bunch of the thorns standing, struggling on the green ring is me.

There is a house built out of stone. Wooden floors, walls and window sills...Tables and chairs worn by all of the dust...This is a place where I don't feel aloneThis is a place where I feel at home...Cause, I built a home for you, for me. Until it disappeared from me, from you. And now, it's time to leave and turn to dust...Out in the garden where we planted the seeds. There is a tree as old as me. Branches were sewn by the colour of green. Ground had arose and passed it's knees By the cracks of the skin I climbed to the top, I climbed the tree to see the world When the gusts came around to blow me down. I held on as tightly as you held onto me. I held on as tightly as you held onto me... Cause, I built a home for you, for me. Until it disappeared from me, from you... And now, it's time to leave and turn to dust...