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In 1952 MAG
I walk into an empty room, trying to
remember what was here before me.
I vaguely remember the faded yellow walls and the lavender sheets.
Feeling numb, nothing left but dreamy
nihilism and nostalgia for a time I
Living life in solitude isn't too bad when
I'm with you.
Dressed in pastel chiffon and flower crowns,
You're in your studded boots and black
Corner cafes, spiral staircases, and
Sharing vanilla milkshakes and listening
to frank sinatra records.
Take me to the theatre, give me a
I'll wear a pink Chanel suit and pearls.
My bones were decaying, my mind was dying.
I found a light that never goes out in
your narrow eyes.
The American dream made me come alive.
Make your life a work of art and you will never die.