Handshake Building 803: Who's Knocking?

Shaking hands, there is a thin line of sky between the buildings, and the red rope knots seven layers of injustice. No one can be seen in the sound of combing hair, what number is hidden under the mirror? Mold stains oozed from the walls like grimaces, and the elevators were filled with doubles. Five hundred rent as a reminder, who pinches the back of the neck every night?