Red wine's dropping on the floor like blood
in the midst of Carnival
or amn't I to grab at the truth tonight, darling?
I've bought you a Roman snake ring as a souvenir from abroad
But it's Black Friday again
and it's no use clinging to the Golden Dawn these days
I am down on my knees, trembling,
and if I only could rise again,
all would not, yet, be lost
I would scream ¡No pasarán!, la commune est en lutte, believing there was still hope; castling.
Ex oriente lux.
Stumbling over a graveyard in Paris, looking for a minimal party in Cologne.
You'll never get access to the throne.
All is not, yet, lost,
we've still got our survival manuals,
but they're speaking in tongues,
whereas the drone attacks are more than real, aren't they?
And the machine guns are marching louder than we thought, aren't they?
Toutes les droites appartiennent à son auteur Il a été publié sur e-Stories.org par la demande de Melanie Schäfer.
Publié sur e-Stories.org sur 15.07.2011.
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