Unpersonal Poem by Adam Berman

It's unpersonal and its all in your head,
from the moment that you wake up
to the second you are dead- in her eyes
you can reach the skies
and in her tongue,
you're swallowed
like a pill that is wrong

Drinking beer to the redlight of the moon
you write her a song and tie it some balloon
You release it to the sky and hope it will make it to heaven
but it pops and drops to the ground so soon
you are left to wonder if it was the balloon
your song was tied to

Dragging yourself through the streets at dawn
you don't know anyone cause everybody is gone
You draw an image of her in your mind and tie it to a tree
You stand there with it for hours forgetting about reality and time
you are left to wonder whether the sun could shine
over both of your shadows

Heading for the supermarket during the day
You walk to your music and scream of girls that run away
wish she was there so they wouldn't have to run you say
You buy some milk and bread
an old crippled gentleman in a wheelchair is dropping his grocesary
you are left to wonder if it is sad
that people turn their heads like sparrows

It's unpersonal and its all in your head,
from the moment that you wake up
to the second you are dead- in her eyes
you can reach the skies
and in her tongue,
you're swallowed
like a pill that is wrong

Dreaming about her at night late when you're outside
You ask for god's wisedom but walk with her guide
You hold it in your face that you almost hit someone or a car
but it pours down these tears and stamps your face with a scar
you are left to wonder why healing costs so much time if its 'mine'
and why you struggle with maps

Buying roses for a flower at the 9 or 10th hour
You find yourself a towel and on the way a rainny shower
You walk to her place in such rhythm and pace
you take a trip to cocaine space but but you end up crashining; crying and laughing
but she's not there, and your roses are all wet from your sweat
and you swear- that you don't want to walk to Osdorp again
You are left to wonder if your jeans get dry the moment you're high
and why you would buy roses for a flower anyways

It's unpersonal and its all in your head,
from the moment that you wake up
to the second you are dead- in her eyes
you can reach the skies
and in her tongue,
you're swallowed
like a pill that is wrong

Leaving your country for a dream
you find that nothing is what it seems
you take it as it is and move on
from late night to the early dawn
you are left to wonder what adam and eve
were dreaming of

Drinking milk to the light of the noon
You write her this song and tie it some balloon
you release it to the sky and hope it will make it to heaven
but it pops and drops to the ground so soon
you are left to if it was the balloon
your song was tied to