Searching God staring at a bunch of urban lights.
I'm crowding empty streets with the ghosts of who I'm expecting to be.
Tonight they'll soon fade with darkness,
they'll soon fade with darkness.
Not sure if I'm watching a safe landscape or its opposite, in other words me.
I'm surrounded by roars of cars fading away,
I'm overwhelmed by my integrity which screams:
"A bucket can't be filled with the whole oceans water, middle class revolutions are getting older. Conscious and dead's what you deserve, are you leaving home for a fucking lost bet?"
Open sails and black clouds! x2
We're silly corpses laughing at their death, products of caged acknowledgements.
What else? I can't feel my head, barely dead, I can't fill my head full and sad.
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