come outdoors, you’ll soon be trashed and
swept away. the thought in your heart.
it makes you so afraid you’ll
never come outside again.
this is a song that i wrote for you,
but you will never receive it.
you always carefully lock your doors.
detest all kinds of whatever. may i persuade
you to go on holding on to this song?
national geographic’s dangerzone isn’t much
of a help. it leaves you pegged down to your
seat at home. all alone
*n*lyse the papers and you’ll conclude that
it’s very dangerous to go outside nowadays.
there is a chance that a plain falls down
right on top of your headwhile you least
expect it to so. but get a grip on your own
life and look way beyond.
you sit hours on your own.
what does it take to get you out of there?