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cowboy poetry

abaixo de minha janela em uma rua da cidade
as sombras colocam ao longo de broadway
a neve sussurra sobre mim
nenhuma rapina é mim de pensamentos pobres
quando a noite drifts ao longo das ruas da cidade
agora quando meus bordos viverem
a chuva sobre, e o ar brilhante
têm você não ouvido
última meia-noite
eu sei o que você está indo dizer
quando eu retornei no por do sol
eu amo minha vida, mas não demasiado bem
deus

 



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