on every night stand, sits a glass filled with emptiness. in so many thirsty forms, does emptiness come. each glass is like salt water; it only serves to increase thirst. first saturday, then friday, now thursday the week is slowly turned over to the glass. every night it meets their lips and kisses them goodnight. oh, how sweet does it taste to be free; to forget all that has past and all that will come; to fill your mind with emptiness and cover your thoughts with fog. empty. it is hard to endure this. why must they be fools? is life so bad that they must forget? three days a week they cheat reality. infidelity, they cheat on the life they have. why? can you tell me?
you know how to love. how did you love those who weren't willing to accept even a kind word from your lips? how did you patiently endure every second and not strike back? love i must, but how? am i fully awake or have i my own glass of emptiness? have i planted my own vineyard and pressed the grapes to fill bottles with my own complacency? awaken me from this stupor! oh, god, take away the blinds. change my heart. break my heart! i need to see what is real and understand the meaning behind every fools escape and attempt to cheat reality. break my heart.
