We pass through gates with colors high
The red and orange and yellow
Fast paced green and everything behind
With death ahead, behold
Just another creaking door
We take no time to close
But run right through with careless minds
Grip on us it never shows
…
Beneath the arcs of change
The wonder will surprise
Between two things there will always be
A gift to us from time
Woven from savage vines
…
Take too long to pass
We fall in love with what our hands won´t hold
It turns to dust and runs from us
Then falls with love divine
…
While death breathes down its cold
We turn around and spill our words
Of memory
Less of what we see
But grace and mercy give us back
Another chance to fly
Through things we only dream we´d done
Another chance to shine
…
Politically Romantic 