The lazy rest

Within you may

go back and stay

if you must

To win you pay

give and lay

Out your trust

I'm not worried

My longing's great

but my patience is greater

Sweeping through

such precious rooms

steeling and being rough

For my part

I want your heart

and that's good enough

Prostitution is gone from the streets

Prostitution is gone from the streets

and in our very families

Freedom is come

Prostitution is gone from the streets

I've seen in daily magazines

It's spread like placards

You see the news stands that states: "Beware!"

and you look around

You're fatter than everyone here

With this weight loss all the time

beside the great waste of american sweets

This nation is a black and white as I am

Prostitution is gone from the streets

and in our very families

she's packing down, packing up

every week

I've stood on your doorstep

smiling and trying to laugh

But I could'nt go dry

for the lie of this concept

And this present you give me

it's as beautful as sparkling

this fountain of youth

But I was looking for truth

And through the computer

you bring it to yourself and

pour homme

But prostitution is gone

Prostitution is gone from the streets into your very families

Pilgrimage

There's a man behind the plan

Beyond compare, complexity and tan

Tie and tail and english farce

Hair and mousse and pilgrimage

Shadows cover half of my face

the path I walk on loves me

Beat my heart but still

I am to be queen

In the daytime we renounce

Trips and fails and baldly bounce

It's as wicked as it shows

the risen fists - the bow down lows

Shadows cover half of my face

the path I walk on loves me

Beat my heart but still I am to be queen

I mix up and I stain upon the world's scenery

Silly Cinderella dream androgyny perspectives

This world will never take me down,

never take me down again

There's a spinning swirl within my head

Polyphemos

May you sing oh goddess. Don't you sing for me.
See my eye's been shadowed. Tears of tar will be
fruitful by the ocean, says the prophecy.

Muses and sirens may fly from this island away, from this bay.
Whether they sing or say, off! from this harbour away from this bay.

I demand you ocean, as the son of sea.
Stretch your hand to smite, then swallow him in thee.
As the prophecy said, none shall fly from me.

Muses and sirens may fly from this island away, from this bay.
Whether they sing or say, off! from this harbour away from this bay.

Tide

As you crash into the cold
on a beautiful winters day
Then you'll want your life to hold
and you'll wish for it to stay

Heaven oh, heaven on high
'tis no more I who vive
I've heard them all resound
but there's a heavenly chime
when the water comes down

With your friends head in you lap
and his blood upon your chest
As you kneel in the horrid gap
of the very worst and the very best

Heaven oh, heaven on high
'tis no more I who vive
I've heard them all resound
but there's a heavenly chime
when the water comes down

It's a freezing to death town
and you urge for a warming cup
All of the matches are falling down
and you're being lifted up

Heaven oh, heaven on high
'tis no more I who vive
I've heard them all resound
but there's a heavenly chime
when the water comes down

Psyche

There's a fascination in her,
that makes him forget to pull his breath back.
He's been watching her his whole life,
and she will soon realize he's always been there
for her eyes.

And when they walk the hardest mile,
the idols bow until they break.
Icons fall off afrom their wake,
as he and Psyche tread the isle.

She shoots up over the clouds,
and when she's just about to burst into: ”Beautiful!”
then her focus glides to the shade,
that has been formed (and still is forming)
beyond her view.

And then she flees afrom the scene.
All felt and thought erodes that light scent.
It is a flight so turbulent,
but all she wants still stands, serene.

”My shadow is of foreign sort
that one can only see if bent
and mirrored in its surface.”, meant:
she hides her hopes for Cupids court.

Om en tjej

En flicka
Hon ligger på sin säng
Hon andas.

Andan faller,
den singlar som ett mynt ner
och landar likt ett löv
på marken,
från taket.

Hon, vars sinne krampat
mot gråblå lakan
och gavlar,
glider nu ner
för gråblå strömmar
och vaknar.

Hon, som utslagen var,
har utslagit ur ärten.