Lists of swinging fists nobody saw
That were slicing through air at the foot of a stair of a bar
Make beds of busted heads, pillowed and puffed
In some quiet and cordoned emergency ward they left us So we always demurred with an ill-advised word
From some enemy’s ill-equipped tongue
Sizzled and burned at our backs
So we learned to dodge
I guess we lost
Staring down the cliffs with my crew-cut
I had turned twenty-three and believed I was dangerous
Lists of swinging hips down in the clubs
They were holding their swerve
I am perfectly sure, for us And a photograph says what a photograph is Holy shit, were our faces so young!
All pissed and thin-lipped as we tippled and tripped
It was fun
Guess we’re done
Lies and flying flies sapping our blood
We fall down, sliding down, slipping, slamming the ground
Cause we’re fucked
So I went down to the mystic
All head-ached and heart-sick
In line with the beggars and bums
Paid his price and he slurred
«My advice is to turn and to run»
Well, I guess we’re dumb
So it’s just gather around, partygoers
That’s if you’re still living
And not wasted, washed-up, watered down
And not dead or death-wishing
Those trumpets won’t blow
The professional driver got lost
And all of those rulers and priests
From the highest to least ave been lined up and shot
How I prayed and I hoped it would lead to some moment
When all of it just flew apart
How I wished and I schemed it, from whisper to scream
How I wanted to just hold your heart
In the palm of my hand and just watch
As it slows and it stops
Call the cops
We’re star-crossed
We’ve gone numb
Well, it was fun!
Well, I guess we lost
I guess we’re done

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