Above my bed,
In front my head,
Beneath white ceiling;
Lay world of a daydreaming.
Room filled with silence.
Room filled with dim light.
Eyes shot so hard that instead tears I feel warm blood.
I got to go.
I got to leave right now.
With steel chisel I am going to;
Built my wooden temple,
My fortress,
My tinny universe -
Which would be free of senseless thoughts.
I waited so long to have few beers with Jesus Christ alone.
And ask him straight ahead:
What is he dream about when he is go to bed...
Above my bed,
In front my head,
Beneath white ceiling;
Lay world of a incomplete daydreaming.
March 21, 1997
wrt: Andrey Prudnikov
Obscurity
© Copyright: Андрей Прудников, 2006
Свидетельство о публикации №106091800413
Свидетельство о публикации №106091800413
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