Friday, 11 May 2012

I can’t be your friend
I am too occupied with quieting myself
Playing poker with muses of faraway lands

I have nothing to give you this time
Since I’ve been held at gunpoint by sirens
Deep in a forest of make-believe

So you see I am not able to drive tonight
My judgment is skewed
Driving away forces, drunk on prana

I can’t come out tonight
I have lost my breath, I am too busy
Running with wolves