Where do the homeless sleep
When they dream
And which lovers do they take
To their grave
Do they look at the sky
In between
An empty space
And a better place
Do they stand in the rain
And not feel the cold
Like watching lovers
Being free (on TV)
Do they cry from happiness
Like mothers do
When their children go through
Their empty nest
To emptiness
Does their wine taste like kings
Dignified in their madness
And the fate of the world
Is in their glasses
And what remains of a beautiful dream
Is the sun and what's been
In the past a child
And her eyes are wild
Thinking the world
Is fair
