Stereo

```Mr. President of Navarre
Where are you looking?

Mr. President of Navarre
You've stained the mirror

Who will reveal to us
the essence of this obsession
who will explain
the lost thread of this deceit
when no one else
understands the first lesson:
things always make more sense
on the stereo

No one ever
threw more stones
at their own roof
to everyone's red roof
silently

You don't live in society
and
what are you doing
licking the wound
of things we don't want to remember?```