The wrinkles on my face are dusty and dark As the scratches on a record forgotten in the attic But the night that will comes Knows all my prayers better She will clasp me in her arms She will crumble me as a bun The moon has drunk too much She's drowned into her scotch But I'll count the sheep, I'll count my breathes, I'll count the bites on my lips, The autumn leaves, the can of beer, The newborn tears, the glasses filled, The human fears, theunpayed bills, The fish of the sea... No whale will sing tonight No zodiac will give me a light 1000 flaming dragonflies Make my way through the ice But downthere, we are just a number, A dive into the air, The memory of a tale If you could go under my cold and trembling skin And if you could stop my breathe. Only then you would stop me.