My money fell through the slot of time an underground foliage of silence black stone you know in your chest that hurts us absent dreams of air if you say what speaks in multiple languages ​​because the measure of time never ends by measuring itself himself identifies with the association itself in it, becoming body and soul, sometimes only in the literalness of the letter causa that produces the state of the spirit to clear the mind of the confusion of languages ​​à une communauté h(um)aine