We cling to the paper skin of the earth
because it may throw us off tomorrow.
Watch closely, Observe:
The grasping hands find one another,
fitting together like pieces of an old puzzle.
The gleam of a tear in the dark,
the arms of a father encircling his child;
these are the last whispers of an endangered race.
The earth may throw us off tomorrow
and dance in the sunlight on the next day.
Expect no pity, no compassion;
Even the tenderest kisses sear the skin.
Apr 9, 2012
Apr 9, 2012 at 10:18 PM UTC
We cling to the paper skin of the earth
because it may throw us off tomorrow.
Watch closely, Observe:
The grasping hands find one another,
fitting together like pieces of an old puzzle.
The gleam of a tear in the dark,
the arms of a father encircling his child;
these are the last whispers of an endangered race.
The earth may throw us off tomorrow
and dance in the sunlight on the next day.
Expect no pity, no compassion;
Even the tenderest kisses sear the skin.
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