Cockroach Orchester

Dance with me in
the shithole I live in.
Put your head on my shoulder
slowly move with me to the beat of my heart.
Iron shell drums spanned
with wolf skin, skinned screaming alive
You shouldn’t struggle with
my self imposed faith.
The die is cast.
I watched myself do it – walking alone
through the streets with distorted visions of a glorious future;
turn with me in circles
to the rhythm of the music,
let me hold your hand in mine.
Stepping; squeaking sounds over morbid wood just for a night.
Tomorrow you can be gone, but
you have to keep your proud out tonight.
Let me spin you around
and don’t you dare to think about tomorrow.
it is what I told myself too,
but that you would dance with me;
makes it easy
for me.
Bugs paint the wall black –
crawling, trippling hairy feet
interfere with music and break the beat.
Let me hold you tight for a single second.
Release you of my arms when the music ends;
real misery wants no company
just be asked for a dance.
Deep down
I am romantic in a way
even if it is just for meaningful goodbyes.

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