Up we shall rise through,
Those finale shaped tragedies,
With little hands skipping over all the wrong keys.
-
Paddle me along the shores,
Like those pedals upon the pianos
Suspended from the floor.
Music sticking to our
Ears,
We grow to adore.
-
And fucking beautiful romances
With useless
Common share,
With what only burns
The soul, and
This heartache
Stays to help me die;
Among fluttering sheets
And we only wonder why.