Let’s
throw on another log and sit around-
I
don’t want to play with fire.
Let’s
throw on another log, and
wait
for the summer.
Like a
child,
I
lay down on the porch to sleep in the sun, as if
a silent tribute
to John Lennon
the
skies are blue
Live, as if you were to die tomorrow
Maybe death is but a silent breath.
Maybe some of us are already dead.
Another year,
lunar-lunatic times...
Our days are counted-
organized
given a name.
We calculate
to
count down
Like a child,
I lay down on the porch to sleep in the sun, as if
a silent tribute to John Lennon
the skies are blue
Live, as if you were to die tomorrow
Maybe death is but a silent breath.
Maybe some of us are already dead.
Another year,
lunar-lunatic times...
Our days are counted-
organized
given a name.
We even calculate to
count down
