With ragged hearts and broken wings
Striking poses for all the bad girls
Like angels from Italian magazines
Lost boys make bad heroes
They buy their whiskey with their charm
In the morning they’re still hoping
They wake up in a strangers arms
Lost boys make bitter soldiers
Their scars are medals they try to hide
It’s a strange tango when they find you
Love is useless in their eyes
Lost boys will not find heaven
Until they stop chasing broken hearts
They’re splendid lovers - but that’s all they’re good for
In this opera they know how to play their part...
Lost boys get here ‘round midnight
With ragged hearts and broken wings
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3 comments:
Ha! I adored Lost boys from afar once, but never to close to burn myself...
It was wonderful. This poem diserves the aplause
Un extraño poema, Dash ¿hace referencia a una película de vampiros?... No la he visto, pero me han gustado tus palabras
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