Il testo della Dream house

Hindered by sober restlessness.
Submitting to the amber crutch.
The theme in my aching prose.
Fantasizing the sight of manhattan;
That pour of a bitter red being that escapes a thin frame.
The rebirth of mutual love.
The slipping on gloves to lay tenderly.

"i'm dying."
- "is it blissful?"
"it's like a dream."
- "i want to dream."