2020.09.29.
Mascara
And something remainsbetween the clear pages and the dark ones,
and I erase your name from my façade.
And I confuse my excuses with your motives.
My excuses with your motives.
Whoever read the cards to me, called me a winner.
But a gipsy is a ploy and an intrusive future.
If I had been a bit younger,
I would have destroyed it with a fantasy.
I would have ripped it up with a fantasy.
Now you can send your lips to a new address
and overlap my face with that of someone else.
I still have your four aces, mind you, all from one colour.
You can hide them or play them as you like,
or make them stay good friends like us.
A sacred will to live and you a sweet mascara goddess
like when it rained outside and you asked me
if by any chance I still had that picture
in which you smiled and didn't look at me.
And the wind blowed
over the neck of your coat and over yourself.
And when I, without understanding it, said, 'Yes',
you said, 'It's all you have from me'.
It's all I have from you.
Now you can send your lips to a new address
and overlap my face with that of someone else.
I still have your four aces, mind you, all from one colour.
You can hide them or play them as you like,
or make them stay good friends like us.