Well, that about does me in.
I’ve packed my bags and time
Has come to start to heaven.
Afraid of the trip. Always
Thought it was short & snappy
And I wouldnt worry. Or
Always thought I’d be glad to go.
But who’s glad to go? I want gold.
I want rich safety in my legs
And good bones made of empty milk
Of God-Kindness – I want
I need I cry like baby
I want my Partotooty
Sweety backpie back
And dong strang bang bong
Dont scrounge my yoll-scrolls
And try to fool with me
One more time & I report you
To the pimp, whore God –
I got the woozes
Said the wrong thing
Want gold want gold
Gold of eternity
209th Chorus
© Copyright: Джек Керуак, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112050709089
Свидетельство о публикации №112050709089
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