The council of angels
In the black smoke of the cemetery
Waits for the suicide of two children
The mausoleum laughs under the wind
The port receives the lashings of the day

They will say that we melted in the howling tides
Unbreathable blue night, immortal escapades
Leaden sleep, trembling waters,
Dew haunts the weeds on the harbor

Hand in hand on the pier
The stars suck in our sighs
Our bodies dissolve in the waves