Some people fight the tide.
Some people are try hards.
Some people are watchless.
Some people are jobless;
And the moon-
she doesn’t give a fuck.

We concepted it around ourselves-
Revolved by the other;
And decided who’s her lover.
But he doesn’t even give a fuck.
The sun.
No he doesn’t.

They’re just two opposing spirits,
kindred in fascination
in those to whom the twosome
is fuckless.

If you’re running late for work,
if you land that big promotion,
if you get sucked out into oblivion,
the moon is indifferent.
She doesn’t care.

She still drinks up the tide;
Men become werewolves-
and the sun-
he doesn’t give a fuck.

Without them, we are timeless.
All is nothing – all is fuckless.

The Moon doesn’t give a fuck.
The Sun doesn’t give a fuck.
We do.