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Broken glass paradise...
this is the very end
why can't we just let go
sometimes it's hard to admit what your senses already know
this is no place for you
where would you take me to
sparks fly and thunder rolls
it's love but it won't do
somewhere above it all
a bird is passing by
with a wound in its breast and a twig in its beak flying way up high
that bird could well be me
as it lands on an apple tree
inhaling cider fumes
in the orchard of destiny
i could ride on with you through the darkness
on a piebald mustang under prairie skies
but the unicorn lies broken-horned and heartless
and the quicksand reaches halfway up my thighs
someone is always there
but i can't see too well
i gaze in the distance wide-eyed, my home is a concrete hell
a broken-glass paradise
a dazzling no-man's land
a mirror's liquid blur
a desert without sand
the ghost of an indian chief is trying to tempt me
a rusty coin on each one of his eyes
the clouds beyond the looking-glass are empty
and the snake-charmer with angel's wings
now drops the flute and sings a lullaby
16 окт 2024
