Words are dancing on the paper as you’re playing on my nerves.
And the rhymes are tearing souls with a broken refrain.
Do not try to grant me freedom; I’m a resurrected corpse,
And I need you like a limp man needs a motherfucking cane.
Life is broken in two pieces which are so damn far from halves.
Take the coins from my eye-lids, I still want to see this world.
That’s the pain that I’m used to; that’s the test I’ll never pass.
I would like to be amusing, but my humour caught a cold.
You are guilty. I am guilty. We are guilty. So what?
Take a shower, my dear, wash me down with the filth.
How many times you loved me? Do not answer with ‘a lot’.
How many times you broke me? Do not answer with a kiss!
We Are Guilty
© Copyright: Марина Смерека, 2006
Свидетельство о публикации №106051500031
Свидетельство о публикации №106051500031
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