Luyện nghe bài hát Terminus - Xtul

Quiet and hooded, his eyes stared out, small
make patterns on the window. Body on wood,
dog the door, flickering memories as trains
in the old men's eyes. Forever part of a sleep-
ing world, for him to come. Lost dreams of
childhood forgotten hope. These lives are grey
made for cemeteries, this time the victim is
desired, like misery. He down from the train,
dust on and clothes, across the way a boy was
grinning, obvious in torn grey trousers
inherited an earlier victim of the white horse.
Filing past the flowers and full of dreams,
light of night filtering where tiles slipped,
that darkness. Each ritual makes demand, a hope-
less coil of expensive death our exeistence.
The never changes, never falters. Along
those derelict lines lines to end. Small hands
smear juice on squeezing tight crinkling of
skin against worn eyes. is no need of light.
Somewhere, in the secret cathedral, movements,
the whole area covered in of snow, pitted by
huts. He had no expectations, was no reason,
breathing short as the on the wall. Whenever the
dog moved, the trembled, shimmering like water
moved by leaves in a forest. of cold spray in
the dust, as in the future faded by choice. Our
for miracles is not enough. Here, animals
remain, immaculate, seduced by pain. Ending into
specters of welcome. stained with patients. The
moment of least action. He moved a rat in rubble
toward the sheets of snow, and empty, like an
old house, the place where all meet. "He was
before he jumped".

Las the boy came. Open arms. Black hair.
Strong. pale face. A volunteer. Unsure of why
he came. Seduced by pain. A painting. Waiting
for release, he blinked, up at the ceiling,
let out a tiny gasp for oblivion.

No engines anymoore. The engine's stopped. No
ghosts of death playing in the grass. simple, as
you would expect. No physical core. No of love
from pitted carriages. Just an town. Derelict.
No way to identify. playing across skin like
fingers. Just as ampty as flesh. do you want?
in particular. No reason at all. Just a noise
of dreams at the door. as before. Did you see

This is the place where all meet, the place
where all is the secret. The where time stands
still in the comfort of night and becomes will
in the of light. I never want to leave. I
want to leave. I never want to leave.