tired feet

But I am running, with tired feet, my friend. I am tired and counting the minutes, so that time will pass slowly.
I really don't care about the number of tumors and the bad blood that seems to be walking inside me.

And is there pure blood?
I do not know, and I do not seek to answer this question, I seek to stay only on one sidewalk... Alone, you and me, and the trees; And your hoarse voice, your always sleeping eyes, your tired hands, sharp...

To the point of endless pain.