The night has fallen down the staircase
And I, for one, have felt its bruises
Equilbrium; inebriated
Our social graces have been displaced
As we sink deeper into the drink
The volume increases….
Night time resurrects fault lines
Silent wars — rumble somewhere below
The surfaces verses…
The surfaces verses…
The shoe is dropped, lungs explode
Shards of words of a shattered voice
And there’s still a hole where the phone was thrown
Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah…
Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah…
The moon is rising, a revolution
I close my eyes and the room is spinning
You’re screaming:
«Sweetie, the moon has raped me —
It has left its seeds like a tomb inside me
So I must learn to abort these feelings
This romance is bleeding…»
Night time triggers the land mines
Bedroom wounds — lovers like brigadiers
Marching two by two…
Marching two by two…
A soldier’s down
Flood gates burst
I’ve said some things I wish you’d never heard
Like, «There’s still a hole where the phone was thrown.»
It’s growing as we speak
And it’s sucking us both in
A vacuum of sorrow to swallow up the day