A Few Words From Our Ten Nominees - The Little Hands Of Asphalt

Little twinkling stars

And the depth of the clouds

With the name of your favorite bar

At least it's good then to know where you are

When mostly you're really not sure

How all of these places and faces really occur

Just a page left to read

Your words are rich but they somehow

Seem weightless to me

Just with your simplest views I'll agree

Like everything has to end

It's just the timing I'm doubting

My most inconvenient friend

So soon I'll put you to sleep

You'll dream of natural disasters and electric sheep

But the hills of our town they are steep

And me I am easy to please

Just a couch and some pamphlets

With headers that I made up with ease

A few words from our ten nominees

O'er the rights of the new bourgeoisie

Maybe the wind and the trees

Will finally give us some peace

And then the next afternoon

I'll share with you the sweet taste

Of laboriously licking my wounds

And though I know you're already immune

To every decision I'll make

Both the good ones and the ones

That'll turn out to be mistakes