Poetry

Kartą vieną gyvenau,
Ne mažiau ir ne daugiau.
Buvo visko, tiek smagaus, tiek tragiško.
Bet neparašiau tau, žmogau, jokio laiško.

In over a month I haven't touched poetry.
It's like my goal is at the top of the tree
But all I do is sit beneath it like a wilting flower.
Waiting until somebody builds me a tower.

Neturiu aš daug ką pasakyt,
Tiesiog be žinučių tavo,
Nežinau aš ką daugiau daryt.
Mane jos tiesiog saugo.

Thoughts, can they leave me?
Dreams, can they stay?
The wet concrete is touching my knee,
By the texture alone I am swept away.

Normality you fucking bastard,
You cruel and subdividing bitch.
My life before was filled with custard,
Now I can't even scratch my social itch...