One single being, but there's no blood. One single caress, death or rose. The sea comes and reunites our lives and alone attacks and divides and sings in night and day and man and creature. The essence: Don't belive in our politician's...

Here I cam to the very edge
where nothing at all needs saying,
everything is absorbed through
    weather and the sea,
and the moon swam back,
its rays all silvered,
and time and again the darkness
    would be broken
by the crash of a wave,
and every day on the balcony of the sea,
wings open,
fire is born,
and everything is blue again like:
Politician's in the fog...