Treasure Island

Max Kuvaev

(14/03/1974 / East Siberia)

Greed


summer comes and in the streets
somebody walks sombody talks
you come and lay your hand on me
but i just really don't want
summer comes with summer games
summer comes with wind and dust
i don't think you sense the strain
all your love is in the past

feelings are humiliated in a paroxysm of greed
sticky hands all over the place
words are all unable to fit
into the weary mask of your face
aimlessness and voice is gone
dreary days sink into sand
all the right moves were wrong
and our very hearts were lent

i think i should drink
till i can't see
please allow me
to forget your greed
my greed
all the greed in the world
the images distort
again and again
and it never ends
we're always greedy

Submitted: Saturday, November 29, 2008

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