In Heartbreak Hotel
in a small Irish village
where all the roads&paths
lead to a lonely beach
That is where I dwell
having no bubble bath
And the wind whistles
and forces me dancing traditional giga
to reach the point
Surfers dressed in black wet suits
riding their boards
could hear even the flutes
watching cool wave sliding
the ninth wave should be mine
but I'm not riding
upon my return
just watching
the sad eyes of a stubborn whitish horse
his shine which is all that opaque light source
No comments:
Post a Comment