Streets are empty like our empty cups

we were drinking for hours celebrating past

Dust and smoke and loud thoughts in the air

there is nothing left here for us my friend

The poet is sleeping and darkness has painted our hearts

no angels, no traces, no waste, none of us

can be as he was the day we were born

We look just like flowers while our wings have been torn

I need a new place to walk all along

or just a new face for my poor old soul