Love was never what mattered,
In fact it meant nothing at all
But I said to you there must be only one chance
And I possess the desire to fall
Hope was just the thing with talons
Closing like a vice upon my heart
Pressing, ripping through my bared skin
Don't ask me for a tomorrow
Or a dream on a shooting star
Just waste me away on a putrid today
By telling me (lies) what we are
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem