Old World Romance

Walls exist to protect whatever is inside,
Walls die a quick death when they fall,
Except when there were no walls at all.
In that case, the inside might resurface.

There was a wall that couldn't have broken
Without that other wall that blew up first.
It's an old world romance, c'mon let's dance,
A colourful 1980s wedding, with shoulder-pads.

She was sixteen when she died, he was twenty-eight,
He succumbed to pressure some three years after her.
He was quite rich, she was quite poor, or so you think.

They finally had an old world wedding in afterlife,
Each had something the other needed so much -
He brought her concrete, she brought him invisibility
Year or two later, she gave birth to some new walls.

Now we're all confined to our own solitary cubes,
Every person has their own little concrete fence,
Those two, they cast a shadow upon us from afar.

You can have him on your cupboard, on your desk.
You will have her inside of you and not even know.

And it goes the same way as it always used to:

What's outside is pressured to be a shade of grey.
Because that is the only way not to get beaten up,
Seeing inside as a field of gold, with scattered flowers.

What's inside is pressured to be a shade of green.
Seeing the outside as savage, dangerous and evil,
Can't tell that flowers bloom on the other side, too.

I cross another line and you build another wall,
I break that wall of yours and you cross another line.
I build my own wall and just when I think that's all,
You come along and it all explodes, with a tall rainbow.

You always wanted to preserve yourself, like him,
I have always been irresponsible, much like her.
And their shadows will always loom above our heads,
This is why it never lasts, not enough to even begin.

December 07th, 08th and 12th, 2016


Image from texturelib.com.

I tried to turn my "stage" from Wrong Star into a character and pair it with a...well, should be obvious. Loosely inspired by Lloyd Cole's song Period Piece. They brought everything and everybody down, so they need to be together - the Wrong Star and the Period Piece, not the Wrong Star and a Scottish singer-songwriter. Heh. I am fascinated by both of these "protagonists", though I was born too late to see one of them. Almost did. Almost did.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *