You do your face,
You win a race,
But there's no place
Where you belong,
To call it home.
You have the brands,
And many friends
But there're no hands
To keep you warm,
To keep you calm.
And all your life is just nothing,
Attempt to catch the blowing wind.
And I can offer you something,
But your hard heart is like a flint.
And you grow older,
Your blood gets colder,
No one can order
The stream of time.
You passed your prime.
You did your face,
You won a race,
But there's no trace
Of this sucsess.
You can not save it.
And all your life was just nothing,
Attempt to catch the blowing wind.
And I could offer you something,
But your hard heart was like a flint.
Attempt to catch the wind
© Copyright: Джонни Блэкбёрд, 2010
Свидетельство о публикации №110121209906
Свидетельство о публикации №110121209906
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