Pablo Rococo

Romance is where you find it wandering                                                                            

Where you find boys with open hearts, lips wanting kisses                                    

Asymmetrical minds full of office work drifting                                                                      

Melting ice when we release who we truly are, gods                                                        

Dreaming of men in wars 

 

Acorns drifting in a cool breeze, worried we will never fit                                                

 The coffee is left to turn cold, but I like it

When you take control and everything is going wrong                

I'm hung up and it's no good, I'm no good at remembering                                                

No good at remembering your birthday, your voice                                                                      

A punch of memory in the worst way                                                                                                

I can't resist, crushed up pills swallowing guilt                                                                        

Come when I wake from dreams, gasping for fresh air        

There's nothing I can do to allay my suspicion, fears in my mind            

I keep thinking your love is killing me                                                  

All out of sugar, all out of fun                          

These days I've been full of fear, but before I was a hurricane of art                

In an old train moving so fast I write so bad                                      

I know you love me, but your love means nothing                    

You were always a bane, wishing me a good night sleep          

So fake in my nightmares, so sweet when you're mean          

I'm looking for solace, but I don't know how to live when I'm alive        

In a sacred place, a different kind of plane.