The language of the frost lobs dead balloons over ruins

today,

In view of wan wordless crowds that chase waifs to

spires with fiery plumes,

And incite the firmament's portrait of a drowning in

Styx that gives impotents kicks.

Boredom murders the heart of our age while sanguinary

creeps take the stage...

Boredom strangles the life from the printed page.

Masking vapor trails from Mercury for a killer on

Umbria,

Who crippled birch mares now briars replace their old

cotton limbs.

Who will tell? I mean, would it make a difference?

Look, metal flower-petal tears do not even appear in

the myopic mirror.

Boredom murders the heart of our age while sanguinary

creeps take the stage...

Boredom strangles the life from the printed page.

The moon was sagging in the sky as I held her face to

mine,

All our thoughts were coming in so clear beyond the

myopic mirror.

We were darting from the place where we just couldn't

fit,

Far away from all the violence, safely flying in our

own orbit.

Why do I always have to tell you -- forget about the

prescient signs, forget about the life we knew.

May we never be stripped of anything we love, may we

grow so gentle, never go mental.

May we never go, go mental... may we always stay, stay

gentle...

May we never go, go mental... may we always stay, stay

gentle...

May we never go, go mental... may we always stay, stay

gentle...

May we never go, go mental... may we always stay, stay

gentle

gentle

gentle

Boredom murders the heart of our age while sanguinary

creeps take the stage...

Boredom strangles the life from the printed page.

What was my number? What was my number? I don't care!