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Small Talk

No more empty talking of broken hearts,
Of lonely people and couples now apart,
No more silly stories of hopes and fears,
Of empty souls and endless tears…

’Cause tonight, my blind but happy friend,
Tonight we’ll talk about the way it ends,
About Death’s whisper twisted,
Whether immortality is lie, or once existed.

For this, my friend, we will
Dive in human’s most developed skill -
Whining, we will with our rational mind as the coldest tool
Swim against the blazing fire of complaints of fools.

I bet, my friend, you’ve heard
How help can be destructive, even hurt,
How many hearts with false obsession filled
Countless tears later spilled…

I know, mate, you’ll question my thoughts’ way,
You’ll claim whining is a way problems to abate,
That ordinary men for their weakness have no fault,
And can’t endure in their wounds the pain of reality’s salt.

But I’ll crash your theories beyond repair,
Point out the fake masks each person wears,
Tear apart your dreams, shake you till you wake,
Show exactly how dark and lonely, depressive and abusive is this world so fake…

Don’t be mad at me, poor, depressed now, mate,
For taking you away from fools’ happy silly state,
Look around, prove me wrong, before
You realize you can’t and find yourself crawling on the floor.

I’m leaving now, my friend, I have to go, though
I believe in no God, believing seems to be my soul.
We’ll talk again, but now with the ashes of my last song,
My friend, I'll fly away, I'll go alone.

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автор: CryingInferno
раздел: Лирика -> Лирика на чужд език
публикувана на: 2008-01-08
прочитания: 102
точки: 7 ( виж далите точки )
коментари: 0 ( виж коментарите )
препоръчано от: 2 ( виж препоръчалите )
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