jueves, 21 de agosto de 2014

Think about it

THINK ABOUT IT.

The blows of the World War,
The sounds of Consolation,
The heavy line of your mouth,
All the money of our nation.
The narrow alleys of the soul
The dark verb of Constellations.
The footsteps of foreign people
This karma of bad inspiration.
We aren’t smart people
if we stay here alone,
You need somebody there
no longer than yearning
for answering the phone.
At least you were hurt,
with scars or bloody deepness,
don’t give up from start
we’re passengers in life
trying to solve a business,
trying to survive be abandoned,
not physically injured,
but still broken,
and stolen by painful
and perjured pundits.
We aren’t smart people
if we stay alone,
You need somebody there
no longer than yearning
for ringing the phone.
Go out and direct the movie,
contact a sweetheart right now
in a quick interview, at net,
or buy a cow.
Don’t blame me I’m the messenger
to tell you this stuff,
I don’t believe a word,
your fate is predicted like a guff.

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