sky full of stars
red like cherries
such a pretty shade
shining like a well polished blade
perhaps i'll paint a picture
one of sweet summer
with words flung like metal stars
not forgetting the scars
these cherries have a bitter aftertaste
i'll spit them on my shoes
i'm sure there's been some mistake
there are no more cookies and no more cake
we are all clowns
playing games and making jokes
we'll all deceive one another
even lying to your own mother
i guess the game is over
no longer do we breathe
we'll fall like planks of wood
only red stars left where we once stood
