-

I played the Liszt and dined with death.
I cut myself, and laughed, and wept.
But despite my luck and wealth,
Solitude was all I felt.

But days ran by and nights arrived -
Cruel, dark flowers of your breath.
And I'm hight, and so alive
When I play Liszt and dine with death.

-

In the world of “what if”s and “probably”s
My life flickers as an “Yes”
And dims into a “No”.

I’m determined as an idiotic child
And confident as a stupid falsetto.