If I really did look like God with the sun behind me,
like you said I did, has the Great Flood come yet?
Or is it playing her part, is it biding unruly time,
until the white knight steps forward, his compassion
renewed? When we stop caring is when we feel like
we should care the most. So fuck it, so flood it,
so let everyone breathe salt and party hard with
deep sea midnight, until they sink to the lowest
point that I lovingly call Her Castle.
Taste the rainbow.
And in the morning, the trees will replant themselves.
And in the morning, the blades of grass will make amends.
some call them girls and others call them friends.
No comments:
Post a Comment