All the poets are crazy,
dreamers with so much and so little to say,
armed only with words to make everything
in the world right again.
They say, it is up to the artists
it is up to the youth
but all they have are heads, like planets,
their eyes see everything in the night, but
find all thoughts untouchable, orbiting around their brains.
All the poets are crazy!
All the poets are mad!
All their stories are blasphemous!
You know,
the poets write such beautiful songs...
too bad
no one understands them.
dreamers with so much and so little to say,
armed only with words to make everything
in the world right again.
They say, it is up to the artists
it is up to the youth
but all they have are heads, like planets,
their eyes see everything in the night, but
find all thoughts untouchable, orbiting around their brains.
All the poets are crazy!
All the poets are mad!
All their stories are blasphemous!
You know,
the poets write such beautiful songs...
too bad
no one understands them.
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