Bukowski

Make a song like a wolf howling
Look for something to love, let it destroy me
Empty my cup and fill yours
Touch the sky of your mouth and shout hallelujah!

I want to steal the star, tame the fear
Erase the trace and learn to walk again
Just a player who loves the game
With a paper weapon in love with the flame

And I carry

A whole life searching for a place
That I still haven't found
If I trip again
I’ll light a joint and hum a tune

A whole life searching for a place
That I still haven't found
In the hands of chance
I’ll light a joint and hum a tune

You know that I
Have only stitched words to the page with threads of gold
I've written about love, pain, mistakes, the flower in the mud
About that little bit that’s almost nothing but means everything to me
Words of gold

I represent the light in the block, the life that passes
And also the kids with poker faces
Standing on the corner, looking for ruin or the high life
I represent the street
And the verse that burns
And all those who arrive late
When there are no trains to take them home

And I carry

A whole life searching for a place
That I still haven't found
If I trip again
I’ll light a joint and hum a tune

A whole life searching for a place
That I still haven't found
In the hands of chance
I’ll light a joint and hum a tune

Tower of Babel, paper flowers
Unrelenting war against sadness
And I, in this brothel, am only faithful
To my own skin and to my nature

And it is

Tower of Babel, paper flowers
Unrelenting war against sadness
And I, in this brothel, am only faithful
To my own skin and to my nature

And that's it.