You wanted me to see you
and you dripped in my stare
and I ended up here
surrounded by guests
waiting for you to announce
if you'll leave
or if you'll stay.
And what am I supposed to do with our story?
Throw it to the sea and watch from the pier
How fishes mistake it for plancton
and devour it piece by piece
until there's nothing left?
I would have followed you
to the end of the world
through the path of cactus and thorns
but tell your October Sun
next year, he won't see me here
I'll finally be free
I'll be free to leave
Far from its eden
Abyss over abyss
and my neck on quicksands
I created myself.
You could have leave me
for the power
of your own American continent
But what am I supposed to do with our lands?
let the plague kill anything is born?
and let the raven polish off the harvest
just because we missed a scarecrow
in this botched feint?
You wanted me to see you,
and you dripped in my stare,
and I did.
And I did.