[the last guest] || girls who like girls | are sitting by the bar | and you are far and my friend says with someone else | as if i cared || i've got a thousand things to do | i've got pen and paper | i've got a fully charged battery | for my brand new ibook || i'm sitting by the river | sitting in some café | overtipping the waitress | because she smiled at me || girls who like girls | have paid and left the place | and i've been here for days looking out | for someone else | as if you cared || there are a thousand girls to kiss | i will bathe in beauty | and they will have the poetry | that you've been always lacking || i'm sitting by the river | sitting in some café | overtipping the waitress | because she smiled at me ||

yes: finally a new song. it was written in the café where i used to spend an amazing amount of time recently. one day i was touching the rim of my glass while i was lost in thoughts. and suddenly a grainy tone rose from it, while little, visible sound waves travelled across the surface of the red wine, creating complex geometrical patterns. and the gracefulness of this simple, physical phenomenon impressed me unreasonably.