The Pink Box Of Lazurus

The Pink Box Of Lazurus

I’m a girl who wants nothing, which seems like everything,
Sleep disturbed by the money hungry parasites, painting my dreams,
The melodies of the birds in the misty mornings are like sinister Screams,
Coveting my neighbours like retired Clowns in slumber,
While the Jesters and Jokers battle to go to work,
We now get lost in the Circus of life,
Who is the Fool?
Shackled by a pay cheque at the end of the month,
Money is Fairy Dust, it sparkles and seems magical but in the blink of an eye it’s gone,
Was it a myth?
Is it a lie?
What is time? Where does it go?
Relegated roles that seem like purgatory,
Trapped in a pink box wrapped up by Men,
Soon I will find Heaven and the me I used to know would rise again,
Everything will be good all will be well,
The Clowns in the castles will then experience working hell.