tops of sky scrapers
lost in fog
lit from below

Dillo Fenderson

first, snow on the cars,
then on the ground.
guess it's winter after all

Dillo Fenderson

the music confirms my suspicion:
the people aren't real,
but it's really happening.

Dillo Fenderson

"we've so many things in common"
please, be less in insulting
and just call me names

Asuguo

the sound of blowing
my nose echoes through
the whole building

Asuguo

voices distorted
to the monotonous buzz
of insects

Dillo Fenderson

probably the first time
i wish it would stop
going downhill

Dillo Fenderson

in the night
streets don't go uphill
they just slow you down

Dillo Fenderson

the second i enter a store
the only thought left in my brain
is on how to get out again

Asuguo

with everybody asleep
my dreams of empty roads
become a short-lived reality

Asuguo