Well we talked about and around...
where have we misplaced it...?
comun courtesy...
There are no distances left to run...
nothing else to say, at least not today...
in this wheather and wheather it may...
is a question for the hopefull...
the wide eyed idealist you murdered...
the insolent tone you nurtured...
to me it's over, between two bodies
lies an infinite warzone...
Cold war tactis in play...
abuse for leverege, deal it or take it...
you're just as sick as me...
no matter what you answered...
True colors are petitioned and championed...
but sent back home, over shoulder and throne..
let's escape this trigger and fly...
in diferent directions...
That's all you had to say...
what I read on your pale face...
(painting by Edvard Munch)
