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Wind brings the scent, of the very first

warm of spring, in a ghost town, in a

concrete silence,

broken by the sound of sirens...

it use to be a time for freedom

but not in these days

Put your mask on, to breathe

put your mask on, to pretend

that everything is normal

that everything will be ok

point your finger to justify yourself

point your finger! point it at you.

See the world collapse throught your windows.

A parade of coffins,

the old men falls.

in the roulette of death

will you be the lucky one?