he appears in my life a time ago
he just wanna tell someone his life like a biography
no reason for not to betray him or I don’t know
but I wrote down what he told
- what I thought
his eyes wearing glasses dark as the night
when you see him on the street you never remember
he doesn’t look specific just like a man on the street
by any means necessary he’s doing his jobs without feelings
no one could run away from him
in the moment you regard him you gonna hear this «pft!» and you die
nothing spectacular nothing you remind later when he kills someone is past
and now he knows me like I knows him