Sleepwalkers
Your poetry describing me
It doesn't come close
You work the handle
You smear and turn
But you come no closer to meaning
It's your vanity
That's obvious
It embarrasses
Those that adore you
But who's gonna talk
Oh, how it'll hurt you
You were aways unstable
But you've gotten worse
You looked into mirrors
Where death was at work
Of that you were certain
But it was all surface
And surface is numb
Something to wake us
From cultural slumbers
You fucking sleepwalkers
Go on and sleep
Go on and sleep
This is tomorrow
Caminantes sonámbulos
Tu poesía describiéndome
No se acerca
Trabajas en el mango
Te manchas y giras
Pero no te acercas al significado
Es tu vanidad
Eso es obvio
Es vergonzoso
Los que te adoran
¿Pero quién va a hablar?
Oh, cómo te va a doler
Estabas siempre inestable
Pero has empeorado
Miraste a los espejos
Donde la muerte estaba en el trabajo
De eso estabas seguro
Pero era todo superficial
Y la superficie está entumecida
Algo para despertarnos
De los sueños culturales
Malditos sonámbulos
Ve a dormir
Ve a dormir
Esto es mañana