Besedila: Joan As Policewoman. To Survive. Holiday.

little did I know
you're my holiday
the place where I escape
to forget about how I don't see you enough

to displace the rage
defuse the urge
to throw it all away
and become your slave

I'll take you holiday
let's go holiday

this is not a dark thought,
not from one who needs constant reassurance
you give me the sword an the power
to slay who I like
and to be who I like

and I will be the one for you, holiday

yes I will be the one for you, holiday

where do the arrows point?
to my holiday
where do I feel the sun
in my holiday
where does my hoeart start to beat?
at the bridge to your eyes
at the path to your scars
at the sway of your diamond black ocean

I feel this serene
when I let myself go
and give up all control
and my worn-out desire
to be free.