Observe:
One face:
There are little flower cups on one land,
Dripping with tintedscents and rich nectar,
Bees farming the ripe wine of Apollo,
Alive, calmwaters bearing no specter.
Cascades of starry flakes on another,
Anunearthly cloth of silk and velvet white,
Brown naked old ladies trying toknit their youth again,
Clothed in translucent veils for a little respite.
A lovely damsel dancing on the land,
With a face of rose, cream anddew,
Hollow merry sounds echo her voice,
Full of that youthful pleasureand the blithe of few.
A hand that slipped into that maidenly one,
Of afriend that God brought through,
A prince with eyes unabashedly cried,
"Sweet Maiden, I have come for you."
Those classic moments underthe lilacs,
Those peerless feelings were tried,
Of renewed friendshipsand gold aspirations,
Of love with a voice denied.
Another face:
Well,them voices echo in my head, boy,
And mumble threats and shout,
This drinkI hold in my hand, boy,
Is my only way out.
Lookie, here, there are dogsthere,
Gnawing on ol' fossils and bones,
Let 'em eat the dead, ol' foolsdon't listen,
At least he'll give 'em some joy of home.
Well, life ain'tbeen too great for me, boy,
Too many thorns and flesh-tearing spikes,
AndI've lived in an alley all my life,
Wearing nothing save a darkdisguise.
Well, I'll die the way I am,
Bet I'll be murdered someday,
And the only joy I'll ever have known,
Would be the seduction of winethis way.