The lively queen and us.
I
"We´ll all sleep on the homeless moon."
--I said out loud so everyone could hear.
Drunk and weary
with my last cigarette for a cane I brooded.
After few brainstorms of how I could still remain
a man came across my breath.
He was tall, skinny and tremulous
but with shiny auroral eyes he quavered;
"We all know the end is coming,
but some of us know a story with a happy ending."
II
The sweet marine lady heading its way to the last prom,
archangel, featly making everyone speechless,
oh the choreography of charm.
Surrounding the weeping eye in a dark storm surrender.
And for a long, oh so long deadly minute it whispers
over and over again;
"I am the long way home."
Bemoaning on the olden runways as they scream,
searching for a soothing clarity.
She has the goldhorn of our pristine love,
like the leader infusing his men with courage,
she plays with our hearts with a saxophone,
celestial notes flowering in a tender sashay,
jazzy atmospheric air covers our lungs.
After few hours she told us to take care of ourselves,
think about how our shadows can dance,
in a silent pas romance,
stop howling with the midnight timber wolves.
She takes off her ghostly clothes,
naked walking alone under big vivid sky,
clasping the streets with every footstep
which for so long have wanted to die.
Reached out her skinny limb
and clutched around the dead roses,
resurrect! Lo and behold! They were born again.
And she promenades with the bums,
the drunken high hats which lost the war,
the big, the minute, thieves and murderers,
the gentlemen, the gentlewomen, the newborn, the old...
every last one of us. There was no bystander,
but you will witness her where the dead flowers in the rain unfold.
You will see her dance under the blue raised mist.
She´s dressed in all her best;
the heavenly crowned princess of a poor man´s hope,
our queen, the redeemer.
III
"Go under the hedgehop,
make a peek along with the black pigeons.
It will be like walking out of a bar with a beautiful stranger."
"We´ll all sleep on the homeless moon."
--I said out loud so everyone could hear.
Drunk and weary
with my last cigarette for a cane I brooded.
After few brainstorms of how I could still remain
a man came across my breath.
He was tall, skinny and tremulous
but with shiny auroral eyes he quavered;
"We all know the end is coming,
but some of us know a story with a happy ending."
II
The sweet marine lady heading its way to the last prom,
archangel, featly making everyone speechless,
oh the choreography of charm.
Surrounding the weeping eye in a dark storm surrender.
And for a long, oh so long deadly minute it whispers
over and over again;
"I am the long way home."
Bemoaning on the olden runways as they scream,
searching for a soothing clarity.
She has the goldhorn of our pristine love,
like the leader infusing his men with courage,
she plays with our hearts with a saxophone,
celestial notes flowering in a tender sashay,
jazzy atmospheric air covers our lungs.
After few hours she told us to take care of ourselves,
think about how our shadows can dance,
in a silent pas romance,
stop howling with the midnight timber wolves.
She takes off her ghostly clothes,
naked walking alone under big vivid sky,
clasping the streets with every footstep
which for so long have wanted to die.
Reached out her skinny limb
and clutched around the dead roses,
resurrect! Lo and behold! They were born again.
And she promenades with the bums,
the drunken high hats which lost the war,
the big, the minute, thieves and murderers,
the gentlemen, the gentlewomen, the newborn, the old...
every last one of us. There was no bystander,
but you will witness her where the dead flowers in the rain unfold.
You will see her dance under the blue raised mist.
She´s dressed in all her best;
the heavenly crowned princess of a poor man´s hope,
our queen, the redeemer.
III
"Go under the hedgehop,
make a peek along with the black pigeons.
It will be like walking out of a bar with a beautiful stranger."