Wednesday, September 22, 2004

it cannot be good when you look into the mirror and frighten the bejeezes out of yourself.

we´re talking into corners
finding ways to fill the vacuum
and though our mouths are dry
we talk in hope to hit on something new
tied to the railway tracks
it´s one way to revive but no way to relax

we´re just bored teenagers
looking for love
or should i say emotional rages
bored teenagers
seeing ourselves as strangers

we talk about the whys and wherefore
do we really care at all?
talk about the frailty of words
is rarely meaningful
when we´re sitting watching the planes
burn up through the night like meteorites

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