I have an image of a boy inside me.
I don't know why; an image 400 blows deep
His feet, invisible in grey sand and water
And I can't imagine what could be better!
Hey! Listen to me O runaway bride
There's a wind, following you in pride
And all it needs to do is to make your smile
A pedestal, for a strand of hair, to lie.
In a golden afternoon, thus shall we race
Along a highway, hidden within bushes
With rolling tyres, burning themselves
At each turn, without a destination template.
At nightfall, would you reminisce about dusk?
Or at daybreak, is it a bit much what I ask?
I have an image of a boy, inside me
An image, grey and white, moving and still.
I don't know why; an image 400 blows deep
His feet, invisible in grey sand and water
And I can't imagine what could be better!
Hey! Listen to me O runaway bride
There's a wind, following you in pride
And all it needs to do is to make your smile
A pedestal, for a strand of hair, to lie.
In a golden afternoon, thus shall we race
Along a highway, hidden within bushes
With rolling tyres, burning themselves
At each turn, without a destination template.
At nightfall, would you reminisce about dusk?
Or at daybreak, is it a bit much what I ask?
I have an image of a boy, inside me
An image, grey and white, moving and still.
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