Vedic Texts know you are the oil lamp through storms
I try to hit that ball to the railway lines in a society where they
burned the hydrogen balloon and your nose
you taught me to crib for the cork ball that cost 5.25 and all mom's fear
enjoyed my boisterous singing and told me to dot my i's as I wrote of stars
"do you think you are a king" you asked when you played volley ball
under the lights
and drank Appela (gosh it had a hot model) for the ads
i awaited my fatalistic glory that Cheiro promised me
but in a strange we we were always competing
No comments:
Post a Comment