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Art Chatlandia
   

Табуретка

Clean home

мау  

When my life´s end credits will roll
And the opening music will never strike up again
Where shall I go
Doesn´t matter
Where shall I meet you
My Love & my friends?

Can we survive somehow
Through the asperities of this eternal winter?
Hibernate somehow?
Our hearts will shrink, our blood will dry
Whiteness to whiteness then,
Bone to bone, clean home

I´m looking for a scientist to ressurect us
The gap-bridger, magician, pyromancer, God
To have another same wistful take
On the beloved freakshow called life

13-11-2001 01:05

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