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cowboy poetry

a filha, arte do thou vem morrer
há um que esse i amou uma vez assim muito
eu era um goddess ere o mármore me encontrou
jogaram uma pedra, vocę jogaram uma pedra
lá pela janela na casa velha
e enquanto nós andamos a grama foi agitada fraca
as verdades terríveis estes sejam
há uma cidade, builded por nenhuma măo
laranjas arrancando nubian azul-pretas
mas alas, sonhos justos
musing, entre o por do sol e a obscuridade
uma vez este turf macio
quando eu olhei em seus olhos

 



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