Saturday, August 2, 2008


Wish me luck. Don't feel like explaining why I'm asking for this favor, but, please, just wish me luck.
Forty times you may question your life
Four to five with a hunting knife
Before you find out if you survive
Questioning marks have turned into stars

For the record you remember the few
Who for a second time you bid adieu
Forty days in the neon haze
Festering dreams are dressed in fakeries

You follow the skyway
You follow your right away
You follow the streets and the cars
And the shadows and the stars

Forty lessons you may hear from the sun
You never listened to a single one
Fallen leaves whisper like thieves
Not that you mind, you live on stolen time

You follow the skyway (etc.)

Fist loaded with a furious disdain
Your velocity will be your shame
Fast motion like a curious flame
The best I can do is to turn my back on you

You follow the skyway (etc., twice over)

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