One hundred and fifty stars in single file
in this damp night that tastes like marjoram
in this splendid night that tastes like mallow
one hundred and fifty stars in this hot night.
One hundred and fifty stars or one hundred and fifty-one
and me counting them in this lampblack sky
I count them again and again and let's do the tango
in this filthy night that tastes like mud.
Someone throws bombs and no one saw that coming
in this historic night without lapilli or lava
Someone throws bombs that look like toys
that kill people but spare the squirrels.
One hundred and fifty stars and more than a spark
in this hysterical night that tastes like chamomile
one hundred and fifty stars or one thousand and five hundred
and me counting them again and slowly falling asleep.
One hundred and fifty stars and a single star
in this hypocritical night that tastes like Coca-Cola
a night so friendly one can sleep in a sleeping bag
one hundred and fifty stars in the center of the sky.