The skies are gloomy and cold
I'm longing for rain of gold
I want a big horn to hold
And all my love to unfold
I'm playing my leather flute
I want this pain to mute.
Sometimes I start to believe but
I'm feeling discomfort in my butt
Oh golden rain
Wash my pain away
You pour on my face again.
This golden rain will gutter
Down my weary spine,
And I will be hard, like diamond-cutter,
And tall, like forest pine.
That very day, cloak your mate,
So he could fight in armor,
Don't hesitate, open my gate
And come into my parlor.
Oh golden rain
Wash my pain away
You pour on my face again.
Golden rain
© Copyright: Гуддини Гаррик, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111072004295
Свидетельство о публикации №111072004295
Рецензии