Slika 2 : (i još neke, ali ova baš nekako) We starve, look at one another, short of breath Walking proudly in our winter coats Wearing smells from laboratories Facing a dying nation of moving paper fantasy Listening for the new told lies With supreme visions of lonely tunes Somewhere, inside something there is a rush of Greatness, who knows what stands in front of Our lives, I fashion my future on films in space Silence tells me secretly Everything Everything
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