I traveled to many places.
My friends were sobbing in the old concrete sheds.
The boys howled, "let's go."
"We're at the place they told us about,"
I scream to my beautiful boy.
My face dripped and the gentleman joined me,
but I found no one to say good morning to,
just some witch men with mousers who ordered
a good bloodbath for me.
"You're crazy," I told them.
"Don't believe it," they say.
All that could be seen were the crosses
in the old sheds covered in something.
They clipped off my shoulder with a bayonet blow when I felt
my arm as I fell to the grass.
Then they hit my friends with it.
They went on and on, but when they beat my parents,
I ran to the toilet to vomit.
Vast prairies formed in each bit of vomit,
the clouds breaking the sky and the hills getting closer.
"What's your name and what do you do?" they asked me.
"Look, you have a nice ass.
What's your name, nice ass, little bastard bitch."
they asked me.
But my love was stuck to the rocks, the sea,
and the mountains.
But my love, I tell you, is caught
on the rocks, and the sea, and in the mountains.
They don't know the damn concrete sheds, they are.
I come with my sobbing friends.
I come from many places.
I come crying, I smoke, and I get the boys really hot.
It's good for seeing colors, but they
are digging us up by the doors.
But everything will be new, I tell you,
oh yes, beautiful boy.
"Of course," said the guard, "we have to yank out the cancer
by its roots."
Oh yes, oh yes, my disembodied shoulder bled
and the strange smell was the blood.
Turning around you see the two enormous sheds, traces of TNT,
guards, and thick barbed wired fences cover the broken
windows.
But they never found us because our love
was stuck to the rocks, the sea, and the mountains,
stuck, stuck to the rocks, the sea and the mountains,
stuck, stuck to the rocks, the sea, and the mountains.
My girl died.
My boy died.
Everyone disappeared, deserts of love.