I want to tell you a story about the boy that was born
When kings and others were ready to kill for a throne.
The boy was brave and clever as hell,
So here's the story I'm going to tell.
Sometimes the sun goes right and left,
Magic of the morning wakes us up,
The boy was woken by the cat he had
And gave him a smile and some of his love.
The wind was telling that he was a hero,
That he'll live forever and will never die,
The boy drank his tea and looked in the mirror
And found out that it was a lie.
No world to protect with his goddamn weakness,
No love to die for with deceptive heart,
No blood in fightings with congenital meekness,
No friendship to finally tear him apart.
So here's my story,
Did you expect more?
There's no pleasure in glory,
So is in war.
Paradoxical Ballad
© Copyright: Станция Ватерлоо, 2014
Свидетельство о публикации №114021509082
Свидетельство о публикации №114021509082
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