She is my sanctuary, she's my blanket. My day emotionless, cruel it is whitout her (the dull the dark shades on my day... I live inside this place, locked up). Sometimes tense and filled with rage. Above the concrete fields below, With her I wanna go. I see only what I wanna see, I'll be only I wanna be (¡ARGH!).
She is the blanket, she covers me. Now as a yout man I was body poppin breakin on the lino, but I don't know how. But now my ends meet in the best way that I know (traded in my lino for a pad and a biro). That's why I gotta put you on again and again, I take the needle off the technics and put it in my vein.
Alone within myself again, two or three or many times (who cares?). I try to put away my pain when the dirty grey surrounding me around... when I'm down. What my blanket say now, this door is opening on your vigil, in your usual way. That open in my arms, but until the light blurs my vision and I have nowhere to roam whit her.
I know that hold precious little hope for me, and in these happiness. I'm always drowning in my grief... and I only love her. This blanket is my living world... are my only living world. But... one thing for her, to keep in mind her know maybe: I'm down all the time. And I love her when I'm down.

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