There comes a time when you ve been capable and competent
for it to last at least a hundred thousand years
You still pretend that this how you like it -
you ain t got no time for longing,
cheesy feelings, hopes and fears
It happens that you wake up as a
beetle stuck upon a pin
with listlessness all over,
leaving smears
Is it all that matters?
Together though thick and thin
the trees screen the garden for the wind
And I don t remember the smell of yours
or anybody else s skin
This heart is a precious souvenir
and I ll be leaving it here
And then I ll wait,
and then I ll wait
I m in my prime, don t you see?
But is it all that matters?
