And be gone
Embrace the wind of springtime
Bring the clue
And be done
Replace all these plastic lines
As no brains will blast lights
And no cries will remain alive
Let the stars strike shy
Tomorrow with brand new sight
Call the lost wanderers
For they are deep in dreams
Bury these fake smiles
Deep with their stitched jeers
That when they woke up
Found flowers hanging around
For tomorrow will they wrap
And no need for any doubt
Put your emotions apart
And let the fact soars afar
Read the plot for the just
Part of this freaking clash
No rush
Would have come at last
As tomorrow comes
And no feelings be hard
Too much lies drain people's energy. Mine as well.
Too much clichés slain people's intelligence. Mine as hell.
Rest assured, time will bring us the complete story.
Just be sure, not to drown yourself in atrophy.
Time to take a rest, avoid the press, look at the reality ablaze. As tomorrow yields the rest, of this history to attest. That is, when you are able to break the crest, free your mind off the pest.
Or, at least that's what I surmise.
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