music is playing through our favorite channel
watching the pouring rain from last century
sleeping on the dirty carpet of my room
we're the abandoned ones of our generation
90's ordinary pop drums beating
through soundless suitcases beside the bed
where dreams never grow beautifully
where sunshine would destroy all the watercolors
where we wasted cigarettes & soft drinks in those dizzy days
can't you see the walls are getting wet?
your semi-forgotten illusion's glowing flawlessly
through the moldy curtain, a night heron stands still
within the senseless city lights