Always days become f*cking days when machine takes you inside the train of bad thoughts, madness and interest, riding you to fields of money, treating people like circus monkeys. Trying to change hearts into gold stones, that shine outside, Trying to change hearts into gold stones, that die inside. But we are here, dancing on the waves, looking for a escape out of that stupid name they puted on us when our minds where pure, they taught us to look at any body else like a step in a long stair.