deepundergroundpoetry.com
Utopia, too late
As we all lay around
With bullets in our foreheads,
We reminisce
About what it would be like if we rode horses
Instead of driving cars
And chasing after superstars
The stars in the sky die out too,
So what is god?
Small passage from my song XIV
With bullets in our foreheads,
We reminisce
About what it would be like if we rode horses
Instead of driving cars
And chasing after superstars
The stars in the sky die out too,
So what is god?
Small passage from my song XIV
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