I watch the water
beam from the sun
and that is what you call
making love
The Earth is the greatest poet I know.
I pluck at her expression
every so often
merely attempting
to translate her lyrics
into something,
just something
we can all feel and understand

In the mercy of the night
when my thoughts match the sky
temptations don't seem so dangerous

I paint dreams
on the blank canvas of my desperation
that draw hope in the shadows

the fever of this madness keeps me warm
on the loneliest of nights

I don't recognize
she who stares back at me from the bottom of this glass
But she isn't me
And for that I am grateful

But there is no rest for the weary

Far too soon
the mercy of the night
gives way to an unforgiving dawn
shining light from which I cannot hide

The sweet dreams of the night
surrender to the harsh and brutal truth of day

I begin anew
with another tequila sunrise

A different skin tone
A different tongue
What does it matter?
We’re all born young –
Innocent and naïve
Until the world infects
Our minds and makes us harm
The world we should protect

A different belief
A different home
But what is the difference
Between “Hi” and “Shalom”?
Or “As-Salamu Alaykum”
And “Peace be with you”
In the end we’re all humans
Christian or Muslim or Jew

And it’s all rather silly
If you care to think it through
How we need to differentiate
And separate me and you
Just because we were born
In a slightly different place
Into a different religion
Into a different race

‘Cause we’re humans and we bleed
The same colour of red
We need the same things
To be loved and fed
Even if I lived a world away
It matters not in the end
We’re all in this together
You and me, my friend

Standing like a model in a motel room-
jealous eyes can't open the blinds.
Every time, every time.

Je t'aime à la folie, broken frames.
These are beautiful songs for damaged people
that don't think they're all the same.

They taste like formaldehyde,
so hopefully they'll preserve me.
But, instead, they burn the room
as they kiss my neck and collarbone.
Lapdancing on my loneliness-
Please, let me remove my eyes and hands,
because I've seen and have felt too much.

You don't understand:
everything is ideation
and demisexuality.
Double entendre:
I'm a toxic lover,
I have girls around my waste.

Take a look around and see how damaged everyone is,
and how universal they are in their illusory disguise,
"How can we be so smart if the last line was redundant, guys?"

Je t'aime à la folie, broken frames.
This is just a mediocre song for damaged people,
so they believe they're not all the same.

Don't feel too much.
Remove introspection.
Be self-absorbed.
Feel no affection.