There is no music we can hear
There is no music holds us near
Though sound surrounds us
Whispered dear
There is no music can keep us here
We move at dawn and break from dreams
It's spoon to bowl and back again
With coffee buzz and birthday strung
The tape will roll until it ends
The sun is high, and so, too, are you
Inspired to be the gods that made
Pollute the warm and glowing tube
The fruit that dangles in the shade
The night is just a drug we share
So every poet dies in vain
So vain that he or she must know
Leave the echoes for a trail
|
Switch to Russian 
