Can we talk?
Have one of those legitimate
Intimate conversations we envy
Like we used to have when we
Liked the idea of us in unity
You know, us my dear that us, that you & me
It’s a cold day in hell on our level and in our bracket
Now you know it’s got to be when the devil wears a jacket
Hell seems to be freezing over
Easing up on the woe-zone conveyor
Releasing
Each no-zone naysayer…
…And hell ain’t got no ozone layer
We’re actually talking and it serves us well
Oh lord it’s a cold day in hell
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem