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Mathieu Holubowski
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Wild Drums
If you find yourself on lake, perched on quay in silent wait for clouds to overcome that stubborn circus sun - she who has become the peoples chosen one - you will find the shades of grey shake the blue out of the day like a loaded gun. The trees will turn to run, but they are rooted to the earth, and now it's getting colder.
Into the wild we run,
Into the sound of wild drums,
Into the wild,
Into the wild.
Bullets by the million strike through the water, window-like, until they disappear, now one with the mirror into which you appear, you and all your fears.
A bed of shivers now replace that motion-weary summer lake. Now your god spits his hate into your dinner plate. You're grinning like a toddler, because you no longer matter.
Into the wild we run,
Into the sound of wild drums,
Into the wild,
Into the wild.
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