I don't suppose you could ask me out
It's like my future is far
By the time my past mocks me
I am scared of the present
Dancing with leaves of grey ashen color
My friend in friendship's jobless journey.
Alas! It's too soon
Saintly motorcyclists do in highway hostility
We chased the dainty sun under a broken boulevard
On a sea of endless possibilities
Buddhahood and attained enlightenment Now without words burning bright
Ordinary people think it's a spoof
My lover loves like the angels
You can see her in a stream of blue
More saintly charm
Than the tanned pink skies of autumn
I yearn to make someone slyly grin
Just overlooking the Starnbergesee
As they shrug off their mortal coil