Diary Of Dreams

[Anti Methusalem Syndrome]
I plastered all these walls with color
I drank your tears watered with wine
Contented with this taste of anger
Regarding this was mine
I tested all in vague proportions
I drank your tears like they were mine
I dared to speak of new horizons
and blinded both your eyes with mine
Can you feel it coming?
Can you feel it go?
Anti Methusalem Syndrome
Misled by an angel
I thought I saw the sun bleed
Up my throat they crawl
To turn in little rumours
Infinite temptation
Fateful, formless, rare