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Wounds on metal

Posted in Dreamland by ION on 14/09/2009

Early nineties autumn days
Nowhere to travel
Whether you like it or not
We hang out in the park
Feeding the sparrows with dirty bread traces
I think, we sit in an awkward situation, so
Now we understand why the new world travelers refusing to leave home
TA10013 expired ticket to paradise
I guess I might have missed the night signals
Emotions between empty backyards and deserted gas stations
Steps too early
Lights too low
If the cactus party brings 303 screamers together
We’ll pick a motel room afterwards
And
There, we’ll be marked forever
Like wounds on metal
On us, iron dolls_

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