GIRLS IN THE ATTIC

There isn't any time for reflection.
Stationary life evolves
Make it quick please,that's a daughter,a sister a mother, a human, a soul...

How many girls in the attic?
How many turned into stone?
That's a really sick twisted habit.
And I feel the pain of them all.

Undressed from masks,and empathy.
Waiting behind every realm.
We never think when we're talking.
Regretting what was forced to our last words...

Garden of girls in the attic
Ocean of spirits,restless.
In that sick twisted habit.
I feel
The pain
Of them all...