If you were a bird, I will be a wind
Because everything operates with a push.
All though I am a man of bones and skinned,
Still hearing the vibration of this whoosh.
I'm not a robot, I don't have a plastic,
My power in limit, my thoughts not elastic.
I'm trying to catch my holy wave
And this desire is basic.
Don't looking, don't looking
I'm trying to go to your voice,
My tender vehicle.
And I don't wanna to listen my howling,
When we are so happily rejoice,
Oh, my vehicle, my tender vehicle
Vehicle
© Copyright: Саша Отраднова, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112081600508
Свидетельство о публикации №112081600508
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