Small Crimes - Failure

Small crimes

Smiles stretched on old trees

Strike your match so lightly

Watch the crooked smoke rise

Empty prayers to Heaven

Just a mask of blue sky

Look away to

Small crimes

Kick the dog for eating

Leave your old self hungry

Watch in coldest pleasure

Tell the world, «What

Ever

Turns you on is fine with me as long as

Matches don’t get wet"

Warm winds

Calling me a coward make me smile

They can’t convince me now

Burned prayers

Turn me onto nowhere sick and empty

I don’t feel so bad

Ever

Turns around again, says to me softly

«Start the fire now»

Small crimes

Sever used-up old considerations

Freedom’s not so great

All fears

Burn up

They said

(Hold on) to the stairway railing

(Meaning) everything is meaning

(Something) makes it hard to keep track

(Hold on) found my tangled forest

(Growing) got my driest summer

(Small crimes) held my match box tightly