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marriage poem

um pêssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
aflija-se não para o invisível
você diz que você me ama
quem ama a chuva
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
f4-lo vêem sempre um jacaré
lá pela janela na casa velha
alguns dos hurts que você se curou
ao longo de um river-side
veja, desta moeda falsa dele
limps com parar o ritmo doloroso
no porto de york novo
felicidade
serene da tarde e brilhante verdes

 



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