Zhukov T.A. : другие произведения.

The Deal

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-- Fortunato?
-- What say you?
-- Fortunato. Now it's your turn, my love.
-- For the love of God, Montresor!
-- In pace requiescat!
-- Damn you!
-- Will be damned.
           an idle conversation


     I came to make alliance with your virtues.
     My wits and irony are dumped behind the door,
     They hardly need a personal reproach
     I tied them tight to your name tag décor.
     They gonna die of loneliness and cold
     Could ever sacrificed be any more?

     Watch me accompany them die. 
     It's freezing, I'm three quarters dead already 
     One quarter's shining on the verge of high 
     And same amount happy.

     Just think of it, it may be worth believing
     A phony fact that distance doesn't kill.
     It heals; it tranquilizes to a pity.
     And I can handle buoyancy until
     I have to die of something, soul mate.
     So... Would you help me with a gentle aid?

     I'm full of sh... shame and lavish in excuses
     But offer none for you for hell of reason
     I give them gladly paying bills for use
     And then I go off appeased, 
     Untied, unloaded, confused...
     Illusions were, they are, and breed illusions. 

     Don't slip into empathic mode,
     My quirks are not to be essayed. I had to say
     I wish I owed you an immeasurable load 
     Which I would be incapable to pay.

     To match performance, darling.
     May I stay?

2005
TA


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