A day of dynamite,They will scatter the roses,A day of my kite,When all is exposed to the air,My thread entangled in my fingers,My vision concealed,The kite cried for aid,As I was preoccupied with seeking help for myself,She was murmuring, “There, Brazil, Pakistan, America”“I’m soaring; he forgot.”“I’m fading, my comrade.”She was unintelligible to me,Brazil arrived there,Only …
Of oceans and miles, you goI love to be around youMy fragrance is hiddenBut I do never Bind you. The steps you takeon your ownI’ll never interfereBut the ones you selectby asking meI would ratheron your esteemed wayschedule a proper repair. I’m no kind of personWho’ll interrupt your lousy moodI won’t come to cheer you …
