The stars shine so brightly tonight
With all its glory and glow
Like your face,
Like your delicate demure heart
Shone so brightly it blinded my pessimism
But opened up my heart with optimism.
Money is a poison
It kills magic
It murders passion
It has bloody hands
That strangles our imagination
We create things with suppressed creativity
Soon there will be no motivation
And our brains will be rocks of fascism
We will only be robots of commercialisation.
How I wish
That I could get all the wishes I could get.
The English muse is back
With its poetic words
And lovely breaths
O, how I wished I could do this
More often
Vanity, Oh vanity.
