going back to that mall(dedicated to the two.../3)
as the snow goes down i follow it...
keep your pennies for my thoughts
i'd trade them anytime for flakes
virgin white ones that bring back memories
and gently lay them on the ground...
spreading their white hair... poisoned with desires
sitting at those empty tables...
thinking out loud... speaking our lives
on my left the silent and the wise man
on my right the one whose stories were my desires,
catching...
" i'll make u the fisherman of souls " (jesus, somewhere in the bible, written source)
we were the makers of our dreams
ripping them from the eyes of strangers
foreigners, for what we knew
even if we were strangers to ourselves
we shared 10 moments of our lives...
eight of them we spent together
six of them forgotten under the weight of dark nights
four were stolen by the gypsies
and three we stood brave...
i'd trade the rest of them for those two...
two brave men... not men more giants
one was pointing finger at the irony of life
the other, blinded by all the desires...
the first i knew before i met his greatness
and before i was blinded by the light of his words
the second... the bravest of the three
lived the dream I used to dream about
and made his heart a home for two
brave soldiers... looking for the crystal ship...
from their crystal clear glasses
that they raised to the sky...
like an oad to brave soldiers we lost on the way...
me... i drank life from every bottle...
without a glass to pour it in...
some dreamt about the breakfast at tiffanies
we dreamt of breakfast with the Hunter
some dug for gold
we dug for the worms of our desires "knee De(e)pp"
always the brave 3
our wives were screaming: "come back with a bottle or in it"
like a sad message of no return...
home, or to that hunted place...
between the shelves of a closing mall
sad stories of deaths, broken hearts and unsung songs of desires
all good things come in three
the first, a brave man... a good soldier
that knew the irony of life,
and told it with words that made gods listen...
stories of divine proportions
the second one... the greater reminder
of the story that gave me scars...
the poet of unsung loves
i'd give it all away to sit there at that table...
again
there was no last supper, we went straight for the desert
we screamed for silence and without words
swallowed each other's pain to make it poems...
even if those 10 moments were all we thought we had in common
you were there, when i fell for the first time off my bike
you were there when wheels turned like casino roulette wheels...
where will it stop this time?
no balls back than... just bullets
from russia with love..,
well, back in the ex USSR... to be honest back at that same mall
being what we were...
i'd give my soul for those 2 men...
my shoulders so they can sleep,
my cheeks so they can weep...
tonight i drink 2 u...
no whiskey on my ice this time...
just snow flakes on my cheeks
falling like frozen desires...
frozen by the hands off passing time
it's near to closing time... again...
