Our Home

Our home.
There is a dream.
There is a blanket of honey rainbow in.
When did we please last time
our guests come in?
What for, you ask me in the night
That guests, their bones
We better fight
With narrow mind
And bitter bones
Of our guests
that can dissolve
Our home.

Cranberry juicy roads
There are no bonds
There is no dream
There is just you
And surely me
And our shoulders
Are propping up
The arch of quiet
No guests –
As long as berry bonds
Are tight.

Our home is made of slivers
But, all the same, it’s strong
We sit together in the bottom
Were shadows of the scarecrow
Grow.

The winter bird knocks on my eye
And autumn ashes flies nearby
You’ve got my present
And some silence 
And just a piece
Of cryin’ black honey.

You now it perfectly as well
We’ve got no guests to ring the bell
And every day, each of the nights
We see – the dreams are passing by
The fingerprints of our souls
And moaning berries on the road.

Oblivion’s thawing in the sun
Please, take a seat
Right now
we’re done.