see the sun there showing up

see the flower growing up

the one that´s in your smile

let it grow there for a while



every spoken word´s a lie

next chapter written by the big guy

while all the poetry died

in our rooms where also died the quiet



the armour of scarabeus

is what i´m hoping for

so i´m twisting ´round in my visions

to find the tree of life



it´s my task to keep my skin

for the music and the pain so thin

for the fear and for my heat

for the woman and my lead