, , ,

I cannot drink alcohol anymore
there is too much said and done to destroy
too little to create
there is only the inspiration of wretchedness
it is my voice which holds me back
I am who they want to destroy
I am the peacemaker and they call my name to confuse me
yet there is the company of my blood to keep me still

If I could remember it all, it would not be here with me now
If I remembered, I would choose to forget

The dictators, those meticulous sons of bitches
The violators and their fathers
what more could they want
I am all they have but it is merely the words which say it
it is merely the notion of its validity which gives it worth
this formula is foreign to me because I am dry of blood
It is not fair for them
the sad ones