The old wooden shop
On the corner of the street
The smell of jasmine made me stop
Bees humming around the nectar, sweet.


I went to the shop again
The smell wouldn't leave me
Saw nothing but bare ground, plain.


They had to tear it down, love
Said the old stranger
I saw the smells all dissolve
Was I its last customer?


It's been a tale of time
Change is always looming
A last flower I left on the corner,
Jasmine for the bees.

you look so pretty on my screen
lighting up my dark room
hooked again, it's after ten
again
begins the diurnal gloom

I really should sleep soon
lying awake to the illusion  
lying to myself, under this neon
sky
I really should escape this self-made prison

you looked pretty on my screen
but my room's gone dark
I finally close my eyes,sixteen
past four
but you'll still lurk

She was in green, like the approaching springs

Her allure like the blooming flower it brings

Black or white only fought in chess I thought
amidst all the frenzy reason was sought
but such trivial things would bring upon the upheaval
here we are back to the postmedieval

MLK died trying to spread the message
Trump was just 'checking' out his bunker
in these desperate times we need a passage
not the hollow words of a banker

The world is filled with choices
black and white
is what they told you in the books
but it's all gray out here

We were supposed to be his best creation
but earth would be better without us
The animals come in more colours than us
It just makes them more beautiful

When its all over, what will be left
Your worth in gold
Or the memories that'll make you chuckle when you're old
All the worries you swam across
Or the question you asked her, based on the love coin's toss

It's better to feel empty inside than to adjust to the weather outside.

The ifs and buts are needy companions,
who are better left alone.

So when its all over
The gold will sink
Chucklin memories will be all I think.