t’was war as we knew it

a thousand fears in a jar

labelled ‘eau de thè’

a cloud blown over our heads by no man's wind

and still turned the world that we knew

and all that you were

your wrist

tossing a thousand pancakes

your lips

blowing a thousand kisses in a row

your nights

holding my silhouette

amongst a thousand faces

I have no more use for this shield

or this sword

whoever gave them to me

can take them back

I hold myself hostage to

a thousand years of peace

mon chouchou

I'll be drinking onion soup

from our mug, every morning

a thousand years from now

or

until we meet again