The moon is already peeking through the clouds
and, your face, to this last light,
it gives you away in the final scene
of Sherlock Holmes's favorite case
You nailed yourself to the cross
and you stayed ...
definitely still
A thirsty camel in the desert
no verses or illusions are made
lost the sense in what you write
lost the beans in your kitchen
Lost the rhyme signals
nor are you paranoid ...
nor is anyone chasing you
Just try to find
your space
when around you
everything narrows
The immortals are
underground
and his ashes will be lost,
like everything else,
without leaving a trace
The moon is already peeking through the clouds
and, your face, to this last light,
it gives you away in the final scene
of Sherlock Holmes's favorite case
You nailed yourself only to the cross
and you stayed ...
definitely still
You have left the stubborn house
of a sad and helpless past
and long as a sitar raga
on repeated magnetic tape
As a memory of a city
whose pain ...
it does not concern you anymore
Just try to find
your space
when around you
everything narrows
The immortals are
underground
and his ashes will be lost,
like everything else,
without leaving a trace
Just try to find
your space
when around you
everything narrows
The immortals are
underground
and his ashes will be lost,
like everything else,
without leaving a trace
Only among all we can make this a better place :)