Your star sign and your calendar
show exactly that you're on top,
but you're not.
The quieter
The more you know that this is not how it should be.
Forty million different stories,
Each of those could curse a lie.
Trading stickers at the front porch ,
Could have been your first resistance
It happened while you spent your days at home
And still you force yourself to go to places
That you think you belong, but you're wrong.
The pressure and the preferences, it's been a while
Since you read those parts in those books.
Where every one tried to exhaust it
As if these efforts made a difference
The awful thought of not returning
Escorted summer holidays
It happened while you were away,
And your bed was so perfectly made.
On the terrace they send you to see
All the guys that would party with me.
In this fortress that they call a house,
And its doorsteps were tumbling down
And its back door that always was shut
protect white paint from down to the top.
So what happened to you and your friends
with the cigarette stains on their hands
And the pale girl we met at the bar
That I always adored from afar