Cheerfully dancing on the ashes,
Beauty has died with the gunslingers
Late for work, heavy traffic
Birds are singing, wind is blowing
Lost my lighter, down to two cigarettes
Sun is shining, clouds are parting
My head is pounding, I hate the morning
Crickets are chirping, leaves are falling
This is a cold dead place, I want to leave it
The air is thin, fills my chest
a thin space between my plastic and my pores.
No matter what direction you move in,
You will always comes back to same place.
Safety in numbers, one is the loneliest
Two can be just as bad,
Nothing can last forever
Control is fool's illusion, life is risk
Truth is the first cousin to imagination
It has no place here.