Two mutilated and silent minutes
Two pairs of tired eyes, which wait for nothing more
Nobody knows what has happened
Well, what we should say
When every letter’s gonna sound like something sore
And you forgot all the Milkyway roads, where we walked
I tried to cut off the Number 9 spot from my mind
And this meeting looks like a fault
And this evening actually looks like a fault
Forgive me, cause it’s me again here
This meeting is my fault
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