I grew out of hope
At the age of sixteen
I regarded the cosmos So I threw out my plans
Through a circle of rope Ran on to the wheel And emptied my head Of all childish ideals The sleep of no feeling I married the first girl And smiled as the spiders
Who wasn't a man
Ran all over my hands Made a good living By dying it's true As the world in my TV
Leaked onto my shoes.
האתר פועל ברישיון אקו"ם
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