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laugardagur, ágúst 14, 2004

Holland, 1945

The only girl I’ve ever loved
Was born with roses in her eyes,
But then they buried her alive one evening 1945 with just her sister at her side
And only weeks before the guns all came and rained on everyone,
Now she’s a little boy in Spain playing pianos filled with flames
On empty rings around the sun all sing to say my dream has come.

But now we must pick up every piece
Of the life we used to love
Just to keep ourselves at least enough to carry on.

And now we ride this circus wheel,
With your dark brother wrapped in white,
Says it was good to be alive,
But now he rides a comet’s flame and won’t be coming back again,
The Earth looks better from a star that’s right above from where you are,
He didn’t mean to make you cry with sparks that ring and bullets fly
On empty rings around your heart the world just screams and falls apart.

But now we must pick up every piece
Of the life we used to love
Just to keep ourselves at least enough to carry on.

And here’s where your mother sleeps,
And here is the room where your brothers were born,
Indentions in the sheets,
Where their bodies once moved but don’t move any more.
And it’s so sad to see the world agree that they’d rather see their faces fill with flies,
All when I’d want to keep white roses in their eyes.

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