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Itís only science

She tried to make me look up
calling the sky majestic as fuck
or something biblical
Iím yet to understand

pointed out pin-prick fireballs
millions of miles away
then looked into my eyes
as if it meant anything at all.

Sure itís pretty
but so is the gutter dripping rain
over the moss-covered yard
or the skeleton of the dead cat
hiding in the long grass
I havenít had the heart to move

I figure if youíre looking to space
over smiling when she roars
or her tangled hair in the wind
relishing the salt taste
of tears that never change
then I donít really give a shit
about the stars

how they wither and die
just as science demands.
24601
Written by 24601 (John Brady)
Published
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