Rehearsing To Cut The Last String

I surrender to the heat

by falling into its dry slow beat

I could lose myself forever

aching for some peace of mind

aching for a little justice

whatever that is



rehearsing to cut the last string

from here on it's all racing downhill

in loss and anger

on an ancient bicycle



it's never worth the trouble

walking on helpless spiders

it seldom leads to a change of weather

back to rain and all those cold days

my crass heart never dared to ask

for love to start and finally end

to ruin my pace of everyday

it only takes the thought of you



rehearsing to cut the last string

from here on it's all downhill

to the pleasures of the harbour

to pleasures of kind waters



rehearsing to cut the last string

from here on it's all racing downhill

for every sorry ass

lying wasted in the grass



rehearsing to cut the last string

from here on it's all downhill

like a burned out

little saintbug