Arms crossed, eyes down, cigarette sigh
Thinking of before the war
My armchair time machine is broken
My old arms bear the sores
A tank once rolled at my command
Now i lose fights with the stairs
The TV melts the days to weeks,
And glues irrelevance to my cares.
The cage of age is one sealed tight
My love since flown away
I long to join her, weightless, fair
Yet i wait another day.
Arms crossed, eyes down, cigarette sigh
Thinking of before the war
My armchair time machine is broken
This old heart bears the sores.
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