The grey clouds gather
They rain on my parade
First in gay and then in sadness
Oh! Why break my soul slow?
Kill me quick with grievances —
Shock me quick with lightning
Torture me not with poison —
My body can bear no battlements
My dear, dear friend
To whom I care so dearly
The grey clouds loom by the second
Do I take shelter or do I let it rain freely?
The world screamed black and white
I looked up and in a flash it rained;
It rained down grey in colour.
I run across the blurry lines I marked
But I no longer see shelter
So I said:
Let it rain grey on my parade
I see you sitting down and I see her sitting down, I turned and feigned oblivion. And in that instant you spot my turning figure — your eyes went wild with panic. Perhaps you see what I see or perhaps you feel guilty. I warrant no right to do so but I hope it’s the latter.
” As though the world have sucked up what I am left with and refused to give it back, I’m tired. Those grey areas, they hit you like a damn truck at the most unexpected moments, don’t they? Maybe I’m doing it all wrong — I’m a ticking paradox waiting to explode. ” – 27.01.2016