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May 2017
You talk of strangers?
I've tested my own kind
People protect themselves from thorns
I've gained my injuries through flowers
Since that day she made me mad

Who cares if I bow my head
To my lovers feet
It's my head
I put it where I like
Call me heretic
Cast me out then
Every person is ready with a stone
All ready to silence me
Because I speak the truth
I know what you don't
Since that day she made me mad

You talk of other people
The world is full idolatry
Worshipping idols and totems
Have you ever worshipped
the seed that grows from the ground?
So stone me
I would rather worship these stones
That today you pelt me with
Since that day she made me mad

Mother, tell her not to call out the name of her dead friends  
so loudly in the middle of the night  
when I am gone  
I fear that this malicious world  
will say that my songs were evil  

Mother tell her to torment my very being  ask her to shout out my name  
in the sand dunes of hell  
she will not change her stab wounds  
nor the way she sleeps sweating and curved  
Mother  I cannot sleep.
Kassana
Written by
Kassana  London
(London)   
225
   Lior Gavra
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