As we wanted to burn the world
Inside our heads, I looked up at the sky,
And I said:
Why not this always? A hazy mind,
Thick and full and sloshing around
With yeasty-beer;
Why not all the time?
But here, when the stars are gone, now,
All it is is emptiness. And I realise that those tears,
The sobbing on their shoulders, none of it can help.
Because the only thing I want is what causes this
In the first; the emptiness would be full,
But only if the sun could see us both,
Through the same fiery eye.
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 3:48 PM UTC
As we wanted to burn the world
Inside our heads, I looked up at the sky,
And I said:
Why not this always? A hazy mind,
Thick and full and sloshing around
With yeasty-beer;
Why not all the time?
But here, when the stars are gone, now,
All it is is emptiness. And I realise that those tears,
The sobbing on their shoulders, none of it can help.
Because the only thing I want is what causes this
In the first; the emptiness would be full,
But only if the sun could see us both,
Through the same fiery eye.
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