Nr
det
inte
lngre
gr
att
sga
nnting
om
nnting
hr
lngre
Nr
allt
r
sett
och
hrt
Nr
det
r
stilla
som
efter
skrd
och
friheten
r
allt
du
har
och
du
r
den
enda
som
r
kvar
r
det
inte
ett
vackert
trick
som
stjrnorna
grmen
dom
har
vat
p
det
i
tusentals
r
Jag
sg
tv
som
lskade
varann
p
tv
igr,
en
hamn
i
den
andres
famn
Det
sg
ut
som
lyckan
ett
tag
Jag
frskte
hitta
dom
igen
nsta
dag
Tnkte
jag
skulle
ka
ner
till
Sifnos
Ta
in
tio
dar
p
Alexandros
Hrde
en
bootleg
med
springsteen
i
bilen
den
sprngde
snder
dom
sista
milen
ner
hit,
och
hr
r
allt
tyst
Vem
r
det
jag
har
hllit
av?
Vem
har
jag
kysst,
vem
har
jag
lskat?
Dom
kan
inte
lta
Salinger
va
ifred
och
den
dr
kvinnan
han
tog
till
sig
publicerade
hanns
brev
Rda
lppar,
lngt
svart
hr
svarta
gon
som
ett,
super-truper
sr
rtt
in
i
den
oformliga
massan
Det
var
hennes
fingeravtryck
p
hennes
pengar
jag
letade
efter
sen
i
kassan
Vi
r
tid
vi
r
pengar
vra
dagar,
vra
ntter
Vr
fdelse
vr,
dd,
vr
kamp
fr
att
verleva
Vra
frlskelser
vra
droger,
vr
lngtan
r
vad
vi
aldrig
blir
vi
r
vr
vntan
Den
lena
huden
och
vrmen
i
den
Vi
r
helgonen
utan
Gud
Vem
har
ag
kysst?
Vem
har
jag
lskat?
Nr
du
ppnade
dig
och
drog
mig
in
i
dig
d
var
du
sann
religion
Du
tyckte
om
kontrollen
men
nr
du
(tappade
den
och
tvingades
hra
mhetens
ton
naken
och
srbar
i
nn
frvirrad
halvminut
d
var
du
ltt
att
tycka
om
Jag
vet
inte
var
du
r
nu
Kanske
r
du
chairman
of
the
Bored
i
nn
Sder-bar
Vi
brjar
bli
gamlavi
som
r
kvar
When
there's
nothing
left
to
say
about
nothing
anymore
When
everything
has
been
seen
and
heard
When
it's
as
quiet
as
after
the
harvest
and
freedom
is
all
you
have
and
you're
the
only
one
left
isn't
it
a
beautiful
trick
the
stars
play
but
they've
been
at
it
for
thousands
of
years
I
saw
two
people
in
love
with
each
other
on
TV
yesterday,
a
haven
in
each
other's
arms
It
looked
like
happiness
for
a
while
I
tried
to
find
them
again
the
next
day
Thought
I'd
go
down
to
Sifnos
Take
in
ten
days
at
Alexandros
Heard
a
bootleg
with
Springsteen
in
the
car
that
blew
up
the
last
few
miles
down
here,
and
here
everything
is
quiet
Who
is
it
that
I've
loved?
Who
have
I
kissed,
who
have
I
loved?
They
can't
leave
Salinger
alone
and
that
woman
he
took
in
published
his
letters
Red
lips,
long
black
hair
black
eyes
like
a,
super-trooper
straight
into
the
amorphous
mass
It
was
her
fingerprints
on
her
money
I
was
looking
for
in
the
cash
register
later
We
are
time
we
are
money
our
days,
our
nights
Our
birth
our,
death,
our
struggle
to
survive
Our
salvations
our
drugs,
our
longing
is
what
we'll
never
become
we
are
our
expectation
The
soft
skin
and
the
warmth
of
it
We
are
the
saints
without
God
Who
have
I
kissed?
Who
have
I
loved?
When
you
opened
up
and
drew
me
into
you
then
you
were
true
religion
You
liked
being
in
control
but
when
you
(lost
it
and
were
forced
to
hear
the
tone
of
compassion
naked
and
vulnerable
in
a
bewildered
half-minute
then
you
were
easy
to
like
I
don't
know
where
you
are
now
Maybe
you're
chairman
of
the
Bored
in
some
Southern
bar
We're
starting
to
get
old,
those
of
us
who
remain