Every night out
Is a knife sunk into my neck
And something in me
Still seeks romance
Among the ruins
Of the burning city:
The Dresden firestorm
Is an abstract thing
Unless you feel
The fire inside

I wait for my dinner
And I eat
For energy's sake
Because I have to live
Somehow
And I have to write
Somehow

I wrote a new song
The other day
In fact, I wrote two
But they weren't about you
Although I'm not sure
About the subconscious
Motives
For writing
At all.
Most of it
Has to do with you.

Don't leave me alone right now
I need to stagger
Home, in your arms
Because otherwise
Another drunken
Suicide attempt
Might be the inevitable result:
And I cannot die
Before I take you out for coffee.

I am too protective
Of the past.