When They Come

Life is a very funny thing

It is a dance of paradise and hell

There is so much I need to tell

I don't even know where to begin

I just want to climb a cliff and yell

We were never explained

That it is so innocent and simple

To fall in love

And it is so cheap and worthless to lose what's made

Nobody told us when we were children

Our teachers failed

                          

In our bedtime stories we were never warned

Of the power of memories, of their sword

As everything comes and everything goes

The power of memories follows

Because we fell in love when they came

And were torn apart when they came way

Life is a very funny thing

We watch things we love the most getting old

And coming to pass

It is in the heart of the worst drunkard

That it is a matter of moment

When they will come for her

We are so unlucky

Because we were all born of this Earth

Where happiness is as light as a feather

And so out of this world

Sometimes it seems like we were born to hurt

And we fight our best friends for her

Leaving them behind in dirt

Life is a very funny thing

Because even when we get what we want

Breaking all the rules and stabbing all the knives

We know that in our hands lays a feather

That some day they will come for her

So when you get her, enjoy her, turn the music and sing

Because it's a matter of moment when will they come

For life is a very funny thing

God

My dream is to become a god,

envy to all, just be above

all that try to contemplate me,

to understand me,

me, and my glorious ways

that guide their petty little days.

Yes, I would like to be a god.

Hold your gifts, they don't please me -

just be amazed by me.

Love me more than your wives and husbands,

come to worship me in thousands.

Write legends about me and my existence,

rejoice in me and my presence

and cry so badly in my absence.

For I am god and I am better than you,

more worthy than you.

I am something more so worship me,

write songs about me.

Let me be the spring of your happiness

without ever having to give myself.

Let me have you.

Inspiration

I essayed to call into being a song

I sighed for thoughts which would belong

But words could not be uttered by my tongue

Calling forth a blow to my spirit as I remained headstrong

I inquired into matters of routine

I tasted its fruit but it was saline

Then reached for branches of innovation but they appeared pristine

Turned to the garden of romance but it failed to keep me keen

A whim dubbed me beneath the legs of Adam and Eve

Towards their delusion of the divinity and their grief

I cast a glance at the contemplation on the divine and one's belief

Spared an inch of time for things a bit impossible to conceive

My mind appeared to be delighted by this subject

As far as my tongue was concerned a poetic word was no more a reject

A spring inside me started to flow, started to eject

Verses of the celestial, written out of admiration and respect

The Father and The Silence

I had The Father from the beginning

From the moment my first memory was born

My first prayer was the one of thanks

For the most trivial cause - a salvaged vase

My mother told me to kneel with her

We put our hands together and prayed

For the goodness of The Father who laid

His hand on our household that day

I had A Father from the beginning

From the moment my first memory was born

My second prayer was the one of request

About a dear bought gift I possessed

It was nothing special, an ordinary present

But it was a dear bought gift for me

It was nowhere to be found and I was just an infant

Setting my mind upon it

I was hearing a sound from the beginning

From the moment my first memory was born

The first time I heard it was when my little heart was torn

It is a sound of plain silence, loud as a horn

I had a Father from the beginning

From the moment my first memory was born

My third and my fourth and my fifth prayers were the ones of varieties

They were prayers of a young man stung by joys and thorns

These years I will remember for the rest of my life

Years of the first mercies and the first strifes

Times when I learned to wish for somebodies instead of somethings

Times when He gave me things - instead of my soul's cravings

I was hearing a Sound from the beginning

From the moment my first memory was born

The third and the fourth and the fifth time I heard it was the time when my heart was worn

By its plainness silence, loud as a horn

I had a father from the beginning

From the moment my first memory was born

My last player was the one of swear

That I will make Him an object of my scorn

I wrote a song to Him

And its name was Goodbye

It mentioned a few good times

But it was about endless fights

I was hearing The Sound from the beginning

From the moment my first memory was born

It was a sound of silence, loud as a horn

And I can't bear it no more

The Loudest of All Yellers

Our world, our only home

Has changed its feathers

But it became an utterly different bird too

Hoovering over universe 's domes

The loudest of all yellers

With its fierce hawk eyes

And claws clenched for a strike

It couldn't really catch any pray

For when danger's on the rise

Scared to death

It shies away

From any real fight

Wings that are carrying our days

Are wings of a queer bird

Of disheleved and thin plumage

A quizzical detail of a funny looking image

Seeing that it avoided skirmishes from its birth

Ask anyone from its flock

They know chronicles of this creature

They would tell you stories of the proud flyer

With flying capacities of a rock

In the quietest of conversations

You would hear the story of a genius

With clumsy thoughts and skilful words

Taking itself much too serious