hello little lump
a world of spiders and toys
I raise
This glass,
In this winter night,
For the ones who are here,
In this flutter of light.
And though you're in my head
You're quite jolly folk
But let's not
The ones:
Who can't help but think;
The one who keep trying
To be
So mature
Unaware that they're dying;
And the one that preach in fire
Lest we find out that they're lying.
So one for the dreamers
And for the ones who can't dream!
One for the rich man, French
Kissing gasoline.
And one for the lovers
Who can't help but lie,
Blindly considering
Forever a stretch of time.
One for the beggar
Who forgot to beg.
One for the children
Stuck in their bed.
One for the mother,
Child in her arms,
Washing with tears the blood
And dirt of war.
One for the ones
Who no one ever sings.
One for the ones
That no one's ever been.
One for the poets.
One for the wise.
One for the sculptures
Of wrinkles and time.
I'm out of drink
So I better refill.
Keep on my brothers,
This is God's will:
Be him a being
Of power and might
Or just the wish of a boy
Trembling at night.
So one for the muses
That slowly drowned.
One for the wedding rings
That had to be pawned.
One for the Kings
Preluding their
Requiem and
Finding their
Riches don't
Grant all their
For the blood
That never got old.
For the tales
That have never been told.
For the old man when the pigeons don't come.
For the sailor never kissing his son.
But toast never did much for anyone
Except for the ones getting drunk
But I guess that I’ve always been selfish…
Lucky me mad man never drink alone…

cookie monster
a party
set upon a hill
a fine day
one toast
god of misery
softly dying
strawberry gardens
feel your dreams