Bring all of your guns
Pistols, Revolvers, Rifles of the sort
Prepare for war against the stars
They shine but they don't fulfill their purposes
So we've begun shooting stars
Round up the bullets
Round up the sharpshooters
Take aim, hand on the trigger and pull it.
The remains will scatter
The bullets will scatter
For on this evening,
The stars shall shatter
For on this evening,
The stars, they fall.
On their incandescent shoulders rest
our unfulfilled wishes
So we'll take them back,
find a way to grant them ourselves.
Find a way to make ourselves happy.















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