The moon was coming up
in cross-dressing style
from he to she.

Smoking in pensive mood;
itching to be ready
for last farewell.

The evil makes you feel
good, to prove the
unrestricted love between the two.

A slight criticism for
Sisiphus. Why does not
he sing like a poor farmhand?

To die young makes them
cry. Why you were burning
your fuel without running on blazing coals?