:::

 

The rift that is pickled pickled, 

the rift that is pickled pickled

the tongue hardly sells window glass

everything is up to you 

and the destruction launches the hand's viaduct.

 

This is the spectacle, 

Gonggong raises you

Gonggong raises you.

 

This is how you will be finished before

a thousand years breathe

on your vigilance and everything lies dormant.

 

Catch a seagull, catch a sheep's bleating

the seagulls taste the space of the air

and are so ready to save Gonggong

and your cry hardly mourns in its frame.

 

This is the spectacle, 

Gonggong raises you

Gonggong raises you.

 

This is how they raise you in your voice

this is how they raise you in your voice

this is how they raise you in your voice

this is how they raise you in your voice

this is how they raise you in your voice

this is how they raise you in your voice.

This is how it is seen, 

Gonggong raises you

Gonggong raises you

up in its mothership.

 

The rift that pickles pickles, 

the rift that pickles pickles

oh, so fine.