And the ghost of a sleepless night creeps into us. But this is no song for lovers. This is me and the mirror. This is me seeking for answers, this is me looking for the truth. And we have hurt, and we have bitten more than we could chew. And we must chuck a giant mountain of shit. But we must chuck it. And it is not easy, it is not easy to move on, it is not easy to fall, to get up and keep walking until you fall. And you need to be capable of getting back in your feet.
And I’m sorry for all the wounds, I’m sorry for all the pain, I know it hurts, but please understand my whole world came crushing down. And I just need to move on. This is not just a midnight punkromance… this is not simple heart moonlighting. This are the vampire punk rockers from hell, and all the monsters in the closet, and all the fears that live on in this world. And I don’t need Bruce Lee to face them. I just need myself. And I need my heart. My mothers are here, and they will always be. I know I do not appreciate the real one as much as I should, but in the depths of my heart, I love her. And my soul mother, well, she is there to advice me. As she has always been. And both of them allow me to make some mistakes and will never blame me for them.
And both of them know we need to face pain in life, and they both know we need to move on. And friends and family are always there somehow. But I am mine, and I am the only one I’ll have for eternity. And if there is some Luna or anything like that, I know that things will come out alright. And life is a long song, and some verses might be blue. Some will be black.
And I know it is selfish, and I know I am mean. But I need to put my own happiness in a higher priority. But this life was not meant to suffer. There is enough suffering in a regular life to create more. And right now I’m afraid death is whispering a lullaby, but I need to wake up and face my life. I cannot hide or pretend, I am not happy. And I know where and when I have been happy. But the past is written, and it is gone, and all the beautiful moments and all the shit wont come back. They may repeat, but they are not the same. And the future is still too far away to fully know what is best. Some say it is better to safe yourself from all the pain. Some say you need to go and live your life and get the most of it. That pain will teach you, that life teaches you. But Robert Plant was right when he wrote “Stairway to Heaven”.
“Yes, there are two paths you can go by
But in the long run
Theres still time to change the road youre on.”
So I need to find in which road I want to walk.
‘They come by night, cruising in their uniforms and their
dances down the damp city streets, swinging along like mad
weekend lovers to the stereo sound of liberation.
They come as witness, spectators and participators,
crazy, wild and drunk on love and noise.
The speakers explode and we are blinded by
a wall of sound, screams, beats.
The movement flows through the room as
the band is on fire, flying across the stage.
Naive, beautiful, yet serious and scarred.
The skinny, feminine looking singer touches his lips
in a signal and gesture of communication and revolt.
The beat hypnotises as the heat is fel through the
room and we all take part knowing that revolution
never felt more alive.
The smell of perspiration and perfume is
flowing through the air as we hold each other
tight, moving along to the manifesto.
This could be the shape of punk to come,
liberation theology in practise, togetherness
spitting the dividers and rulers, the sum of
out parts forming that gag in the mouth that
voices the status quo, woven into fabric with
every last thread of our defiance, sewn to fit
like the shirt on my back.
Or it could be just another sleepless
midnight punk romance.’
Ring any bells?
It rings many bells
pero nuestros caminos de una forma están cerca…