Like it is raining in abstract present
Inside a golden glass in which
I'm lost with my red and blues...
Is it only the fact that is so damn fragile?
But I donno...
And neither do I give a damn...
And I am better in those red or whatever...
And slowly I slip into my mundane...
May be because I lack the vision,
Or may be the vigor or intensity to get through...
Oh! I lack a hell lot of things...
So please close the curtain...
And talk about beautiful things?
Ask your dad...he will be wiser!
And I choose to sleepwalk through my mundane!!!
