I hear the summons, I hear the beats,
the temptress, her, queen of the mermaids,
sweet and sour her song,
full of wreckages are the shores.

It does not die with the new dawn,
it does not end when we get home.
The empress is restless she goes on and on,
the hidden treasures of life she beholds.
The highest highs and the lowest lows,
what it comes to an end and what it doesn’t,
above and beyond.

The song is eternal, profound, withered with a blow,
a staircase that ends in a death bed hall.
We do not point fingers, we do not tell it all,
we cover our scars with sweat and we glow.

Run faster, we are late, our time is about to be over.

Some will fall, perish, get lost,
some others will thrive, learn and grow.
The wicked get tired, being weird gets old,
time to face the music, use all your irony,
(All of it, really).

(Like, for real, stop).

And when it’s all set, and the fears are gone,
Let’s see who shows up to sing your song.
Nobody cares if you don’t go to the party,
Nobody calls when you are bored at home,

Dance on my behalf,
and let me know when you are done.