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As written in the booklet:

It rains on and off while air is so thick and nervous

As if someone was spying a distance away and waiting for something to begin

Begin or end

But where the hell are they going?

With empty string bags

As they hurry like phantoms with their way among the living lost

Just sun-white bones on the streets

It's a distance away

The smallest imaginable flicker

A sign of hope

While confusion seems to come along with the raind and the sun

A call for the lost

On the streets but en route to nowhere

But then again, do you need to, if you're but a sun-white bone

And hung out like a bear skin to dry