Waiting For The Show, ljóð frá 19. marz 2025.

Shepherds lost on ships,

showing no remorse.

Taking no more tips,

trust is in the force.

Fools and tears are gone when game is wrong.

Getting onboard, when you have no song.

Saviour am I, somehow they don't mind,

so it's worst for them, the other kind.

Dots are maybe dreary, blips,

days are going mad,

find her, she's just sad,

sitting far behind.

 

Big, the trolls of time,

taking all the space.

Must I mourn and climb?

Maidens in the race.

Kings like that are never poor, oh pain!

Pity them when life is just in vain!

How they make him richest, right on spot,

Rigid faith or luck just in the pot?

Turn the page and pull the chime,

prime and getting new,

until all is you,

always, must they rot?

 

Serve them, show the might!

She will come to you!

Tell them wrong from right,

rusty, as you do.

When you get the job for all the jive,

just the smallest detail, you're alive!

Don't you think that high is heaven, no!

How the mighty fall and tend to go!

Even them must always fight,

until truth is found.

We are way off bound!

Waiting for the show!