Thin Vein

What's the mother tongue? Thin vein. Bolt gun. Up and down. Close and part. I lay, aimlessly staring at the wall. Outer space the void. I can't sleep again. Laying on my face: one white-numb hand. Stars above my head. Pull-out peace. Any chance of sleep? Everyone on this planet is humming the same sound. Outer space the void. I can't sleep again. Thunderous laughing, plunged in night... --- Thin Vein - Cloud Rat