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father poem

con di anima dei labbri colore rosso e cuore della pietra
mai in tutta la mia vita
e pane del breaketh non di piĂą
in possa
babylon -- dove vado sognare
pensieri tramite la mia testa
ci è un paese in pieno di vino
mi domando dove vivete
ma alas, sogni giusti
glass-blower di tempo
facce belle e tragical
a che cosa una donna la paragonerĂ  cara
quelli sul superiore dicono che li conoscono, terra -- sono liars

 



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