ON THE ABSOLUTE THING CALLED HOPE

Pray to your God
While lying next to me
In the morning
I knock you on the shoulder
When we wake up to become older again
Your hand rests under my head
And cigarette burns itself out

Pray to your God
As we pick up our clothes off the floor
And cherish the scent of almighty coffee
You always drive me home by the dawn
And kiss me goodbye

It's because I don't belong to your neighborhood
To foreign to realize that only rare steaks are real...

Pray away to your God if you have one
We need a souls' inflation
To realize that only inner things
Remain infinite and absolute

And if you want me to keep your bed warm
In embryonal position untill the dusk
I'll stay
You will come home to bask in my smell
To bask in my skin

Pray to my God
To your God within I pray...