Agony of flame tunes to nightingale tune,
And it is going on and on until I begin to swoon,
Its reflection travels to the moon
And Translates into a gloom..
I am somewhere between their dark lagoon,
their Death’s funeral comes too soon,
But i cannot read their Narcissus’s spinning cocoon
So, I go with my steeply softly croon,
But their fucking song comes too soon,
And silence drops down behind the skies,
But my lit cigarette will never dies
In the dark light of salvation skies,
My Ashes will rise in stranger’s eyes
Who will pass by my grave under the blue skies.