---

Under the nocturnal panoply of stars

we unfurled our fragile dreams.

And the crystal silence of the Mojave

held her protective hand o' o'er us.

And in this night we were like orphans

that got to know their mothers name.

And numbed by the wine of Babylon

we redefined the constellations.

Foolish we thought that we were safe

if only we would just believe it so hard.

To the dirge of hope we held on so tightly

and with which we eventually vanished.

And when our lightness drowned

in Stella Artois and Menthol Cigarettes,

we buried our rags

with false pride under Orion's arc light.