Have you ever been deceased?
Or do you quickly fall to the knees?
Time’s value will soon fade out
rusted fortunes give rise to doubts
even the miraclemen won’t desire to wake
for the streets are filled with breeders of hate
I wonder if they can feel the sunny days?
And many moons from now, all the repairmen shall weep
their lack of work, keeping them in bed
the sun will switch shades entirely to red
there is but two circles of hope in the sky
And I’d rather consider them friends of mine…
