today I feel great, finally I've found it

we get drunk on Martini at the Peach Pit

and tomorrow we crush the pigeons on the place

your spirit smiles away my melancholy face



every morning I will say:

"I love you till my heart dies"

and "most beautiful

are your eyes"



today I feel so great in all I do

a time supreme, runes I read in the yew

we lie in the grass interpreting the clouds

we indulge in misanthropy, laugh away the doubts



every morning I will say...



but hoping is futile

and wishing in vain

to you all the best

PS: "all the stars are dead now"