Paris

I look at the beautiful lights, they are so pretty that they blind me/

They are so perfect, that they make me cry/

They are so shiny, that they make my heart skip a beat/

They have so much emotion, that they make me cry/

They have so much pain, that they make me shiver/

They have so much greed, that they make me vomit/

They have so much evil, that they make me tremble/

Yet, the lights are so pretty, that they make everybody happy, regardless/

Still, they are shining/

They are shining when people are dying/

They are sparkling, when people are starving/

They are brightening up your face and darkening mine/

They are making you so happy and me, so sad/

You love them and I, hate them/

They are your joy and my misery/

Your treasure and my fear/

Your laughter and my cry/

They make your day and take away mine/

They bring you together and push me away/

They make you hopeful and leave me empty/

You give them to your children to live and make my children die/

You step on the dirt and come out pretty/

You spit on the ground and it turns into gold/

You slap me on my cheek and you receive roses/

You drown me in the black river and you drink my blood/

Yet, the lights are so pretty that they make you blind/

So sparkling, that they make you forget/

So shining, that you think you are perfect/

So brightening, that you forget what you have done/


So beautiful, yet so evil/

So evil, yet so perfect/

So perfect, yet so disgusting/

So disgusting, that it makes me cry/