I had a friend, friend, friend.
He’s mr. Sad, Sad, Sad
He had his syringe, syringe, syringe.
And now he’s dead, dead, dead.
I walk and think, think, think
The world’s not pink, pink, pink
Once we were hinged, hinged, hinged
Now have no link, link, link.
I ask my mother, mother, mother.
Where is the truth, truth, truth.
It’s in the sky, sky, sky
It’s very high, high, high
To reach it – fly, fly, fly.
Don’t ask me why, why, why.
The answer’s there, there, there.
You have one try, try, try….
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© Copyright: Анна Гри, 2006
Свидетельство о публикации №106052300686
Свидетельство о публикации №106052300686
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