I have this photo of pure joy
It's of a child with his gun
Shooting straight ahead
At what isn't there
I lost the taste, it has no taste
This angel's breath that licks my heart
But I think I walk straight on the water and
On what is not there
Dawn comes or maybe not
Sometimes what seems like dawn isn't
But I know that I know how to walk straight on water and
On what isn't there ¨
You want the choice back, you want the control back
I want my black wings back, my hammer
The key to happiness is disobedience itself
To that that isn't there
Therefore I curse the way I am made
My way of dying safe and sound wherever I stick
My cowardly way of staying and hoping that there is
What is not there
I take care of the leaves, they will be strong
If I can ignore that the trees are dead
But this is walking high above the water and
On what is not there
And here comes the dawn I know it's here for me
Wonderful how sometimes what it seems it's not
Screwing itself, fucking me
For what isn't there

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