The Ark he built of green trees, full of guilt,Before the willow had the chance to kiss the Earth, The waters had risen and embraced the bowls.Carried away on a sorrow-go-round of floating corpses. Floating above the trees,Leaves upon their eyes, Mothers and childrens crys died as the waters rose. Then there was peace, The two by twos stood in silence. Newspaper boats bletheir inks, Words were lost...In the nights they played guitars...In the days they dismantled the depots, And burnt their skins with products they did not know.They asked the water to clean them, And nothing of No one.