today I feel great, finally I've found it we get drunk on Martini at the Peach Pit and tomorrow we crush the pigeons on the place your spirit smiles away my melancholy face every morning I will say: "I love you till my heart dies" and "most beautiful are your eyes" today I feel so great in all I do a time supreme, runes I read in the yew we lie in the gra** interpreting the clouds we indulge in misanthropy, laugh away the doubts every morning I will say... but hoping is futile and wishing in vain to you all the best PS: "all the stars are dead now"