today I feel great, finally I've found it   we get drunk on Martini at the Peach Pit   and tomorrow we crush the pigeons on the place   your spirit smiles away my melancholy face      every morning I will say:   "I love you till my heart dies"   and "most beautiful   are your eyes"      today I feel so great in all I do   a time supreme, runes I read in the yew   we lie in the grass interpreting the clouds   we indulge in misanthropy, laugh away the doubts      every morning I will say...      but hoping is futile   and wishing in vain   to you all the best   PS: "all the stars are dead now"