"If you slice the wind picks them up, the kingdom of the spiders cucirebbe skin and hair and weave the moon face and the pollen of God, God's smile.
I found you on the river that played a leaf, flower, singing words read, words of love. I tasted your lips of red red honey I said give me what you want, what I can.
yellow rose, copper rose, never danced for so long along the edge of the night on the stones of the day. I guitar player, mandolin player I eventually we fell on the hay.
Lost for a long, lost little taken seriously, taken as a joke. There was not much to say or think, fortune smiled like a pond in the spring disheveled from the wind in the afternoon. And now I'll wait
tomorrow to be nostalgic. Lady liberty lady fantasy. So precious as the wine so free as the sadness with your cloud of doubt and beauty. "
Muoio
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