Man
bangs steal a van
On
a quiet road of no man's land
The
dry wind sings its song
“It
isn't the end my friend”
The
heat from the hot land
The
dry lips and hungry eyes
The
naked souls of silent images
Man
bangs steal a van
On
a quiet road of no man's land
The
sound of soft breathing racing with the wind
The
breathless souls on the bushes
They
don't hear the songs
On
the skateboard the skaters fly
They
are the birds without wings
The
man bangs steal a van
On
a quiet road of no man's land
No comments:
Post a Comment