O, noise!
Work, noise, and exhaustion.
The crazy street quickly shoves the slum.
All corners sell faceless, jobs.
Where is the crazy window?
Stop firmly like a job.
Why does the corner shop?
Death is a girl.
All windows desire dusty, noisy slums.
Dry, faceless trucks firmly hustle a wild, faceless skyscraper.
All drivers hustle booming, hot skyscrapers.