At the end of reason the earth still sucks the rain. When our final thought is silenced the winds will not refrain spreading our ashes while god is playing dice.
Mister Black his hands are trembling turning a page he always smells like booze this classroom is his cage.
Next to me Michelle is sleeping her arms slightly bruised everybody knows except for Mister Black.
Golden tears these wonder years are passing by I wave at them and smile.
While at school I fill my notebooks by drawing lines; a sketch of mortal life. A circle wouldn’t do.
This line here is my horizon it‘s also you; unapproachable. There’re things I cannot do.
Golden tears these wasted years are passing by I wave at them and smile
Waiting, I’m waiting, waiting for you to wake. All is easy when you’re seventeen.