Dear you
From here the city does not so much as glow
as shimmer when it shivers
But the termites that scuttle down below
would gravely beg to differ
They gnaw of their paper lives to build
Paper homes and cars
And burn the future to stoke the now
ignoring each and every scar
That mars the vessel of the self
from without and within
So that as they build they wear themselves
paper thin
I was a paper person once
and am a paper person still
And you will find that a paper boy or girl
is not difficult to kill
But I chose to leave and go without much pain
so I'll fold and fly, goodbye.
Sincerely yours,
A paper aeroplane.
Labels: Songs
