The Fly.

There is a fly that beats its wings against the window pane,

trying to escape,

trying to escape

into the night.

O be it right.

I can’t sleep anymore,

I can’t fight this sore

devotion

to another world.

Beyond this porch,

beyond the flicker of the candle flame.

I try to escape,

I try to escape

in name

but it’s the same

state I remain

waiting for the phone to ring.

 

There is a fly that beats its wings against the window pane,

Trying to escape,

Trying to escape

I pray

Upon him.

O find the door dear

Its open I swear

just to your back

beware

the window’s a lie

don’t be frightened and cry

out in the night

o be it right.

Outside the window pane

Outside the window pane

There is another world

For us.

For us.

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