All these stories, are just a bunch of words and interpretations.
You name the stars, the scars, the bars you put up high to hide to reach to confine to define to find….
You and me in different cell but the same prison.
Freudian dreams, Jungian Myths, Lacanian Imagination and Kafkaesque absurdity…
Don’t you think reality is just another story?
With you I am rock and roll; that sleepless drunk poet looking for the devil, pretending to pay a debt with something he no longer have: his soul.
Without you, my mood is jazz and blues, ups and downs with sax and brass an ex with grass then sex and breast.
I never have anywhere to go, so I follow every ho who says land ho! I guess they always want to settle in an island but the wave give ride to the night and right, I have no right to stay for the devil hath take my soul and the full moon tide is my mood.
My jazz and blues mood. My jizz and bliss food.
No wonder you’re gone for good.
I have told you this thousands of years ago
is a monster you can never comprehend
Hell, I can’t even comprehend it myself
My hunger, my hunger
I run like mad horse
a black cube in the desert floating
made of pitch darkness
my hunger, my hunger
How can I love you and live with this hunger
but how can I tell you about this hunger
when you have lost your limbs for me
And my dear doctor asked
“Will you satisfiy your hunger with a new prey?”
To be honest I’d rather die
Yet here I am devouring love
of a Goddess while chewing
at yout bones
With you I do believe in magic
and fairies, and omen, and sacrifice
With you I do believe that I can endure
persevere, and nothing can stop me but death
and death is the ultimate magic of all
it is the one absolute, most powerful
and certain with zero possibility:
an end to unpredictability of life
In death we can be sure
what comes around goes around
And in death separation is closed
in life, separation could have closure
What’s after death? Nobody came back to tell
After life? Death. Done.