Destained (feat. Own Road)

The violet, purple string,

in the mild verging on spring.

Our careless, sweet going,

as infected clusters, us.

And change our own skin,

as the cold northern wind,

it's like painting skies, arming gazes,

and everything is scentless space,

foaming over our

destained hearts.

Our masking convenience

in the existence's guts

that change its own skin,

as the cold northern wind,

it's like painting skies, arming gazes,

and everything is scentless space,

foaming over our

destained hearts