Sweet to me,

Though drowsy wanderers pass by in mystery,

The night floods in from their absence and suddenly;

Many more join in raucous roars,

To interrupt our whispers in the corner.

Stories of the ocean floor,

And when the night has fallen,

You grace to me an open door, to paradise,

When all the world banal,

Wether good or bad, naughty or nice,

Freedom is our canal.

Collaboration with Laurence Fuller and Kesja Tabaczuk