quinta-feira, 4 de agosto de 2016

Tig

A dying friend
can´t get him to care quite in time
my supporter when the rest of the world was against
my teenage friend is about to die

His voice is not the same
it´s more like a croak
The ants and bugs want the corpse
It´s a beautiful creature why must he die?

the comfort of my youth
grief won´t leave me in this moment of recollection
Sitting by the water side pondering your short nine lives
Chasing birds like you had your own car

Part of my little world
the one noone else could see
The only living thing
that never seemed to judge me

Nenhum comentário:

Postar um comentário