Everything is funny.
Because humour will save us all.
And I don’t see a point in reading all the books they give,
‘cause wishing is not make-believe, I believe we’ll not die alone
In a classroom full of smoke, our love-lorn letters wrote
a smokescreen full of years, at 15 we illuminate
poems torn from our books, Neruda could never know
what at 15 tender age, we knew what we need to know
and everything could burn to ash, as chalkboards fall apart
a city I will create, when 16 comes to pass
you could be my princess dear, and i’ll die being an armored knight
this classroom is where we’ll die, our love is very strong.
