It's not the Sun that burns   But your eyes that give up   They look, but stop seeing   and curl up and dry      It happens to the hands   With the silver chains   The redness is an indication   But only eyes know it hurts      Without these,   we lose the touch of things      But I can still sing   Sing alone in silence   No ecos and no noise and   just one frequency in my head      I can't even hear,   the sunset rain cleansing the outside      But do I know the grass is wet   If I can't smell the green?   Can I really know,   if the drops don't sweat to me?      Things are beggining to lose sense   Oh, but I will taste the air      In the red horizon winds   Just when the Sun is going   When day becomes night in seconds   I wanted to taste your lips      How can I know you are there,   if my world is senseless?      I just know...   Perfection shows.