Inside a cramped, narrow hole, The two of us show each other our dreams, We can't beâ
inâ
that world, Neither canâ
we be in this world, Dear God-theâ
god of children, We are covered in scratches in the, Sandbox where you amused yourself, We dance, We spin around, Our dance is a queer one, Our eyes are shaky, All sounds are a mere jumble, Our legs are also shaky. An illusion, a mere jumble, The sun, the moon, the sky, and God-all, Bringing forth this life of hole-dwelling, We can't escape, We won't escape, so close your eyes, Into the vortex of this life of hole-dwelling
