Astronauta

This nostalgic dawn disease
In the darkness of sordid dawn
So long walking on autopilot
Navigating to avoid solid ground

I think I remembered this magical morning
Afternoons holding your hand in that tragic port
Where your gaze was the only Moon
In our desert of absolute darkness

Astronaut where is your crystal ship
Where we built a galactic home
Perhaps sailing through the practical universe
Or on another planet in the Milky Way

My crying is a symptomatic matter
Of my own ship running at full speed
Falling apart amidst numerous chants
Shooting at the walls of humanity

This nostalgic dawn disease
That doesn't go away even with happiness
It has me yearning for some tantric contact
With that gaze of infinite madness

I think I remembered this tragic morning
Afternoons holding your hand in that magical port
Where words were just a formality
Of our languages beyond logic

Astronaut where did your crystal ship go
Where we built a galactic home
Perhaps sailing through the practical universe
Or on another planet in the Milky Way