Gras

when we were finally old enough
we took our shoes
the painted children's room door
closed behind us
father gave us his coat
and his blue hat
mother gave us her tears and
made us a sugar bread

ref.:
the grass keeps growing again and again
wild and tall and green
until the scythes without hate
draw their circles
the grass keeps growing again and again
clinging all the wounds
sometimes strong and sometimes pale
just like you and me

when we were finally old enough
we stuffed them in the closet
the wings patched too many times
and god said thank god
and at night this city
closes the shutters over us
and whoever holds their head too high
won't find their peace