The tram

He never told me that he'd die
under my golden hair
become ground, become a cloud
and I feel helpless.

He knows that I will be alone
without his arms and charms,
I'm sitting on a heavy stone
and counting lonely stars

The stars are so far, the stone is near
the space is between them,
and I feel cold, and I ride home
in an old and dirty tram.

The railway through the city center
is like a road to hell
for me there is no one to miss
I want to disappear

Outside the window rain drops tears
about my dead fakir
the towers of the crazy kings
like symbols of fear

The structure's tall, the road is loud
the folks are between them
and I am bored with my iPad
in an old and dirty tram.

So, that's my house, there are vampires
and goblins everywhere
the sound of steel drums, the sound of wheels
are beating in my ears

The citizens of scary books...
The pictures on the wall...
My sadness will be washed away
By time and alcohol

In memory he is alive
Like a flower, like a freak...
One day I'll take my silver gun
to push "delete"