i know a very sad man
that likes his tea cold
never wear socks
and is really old
the sun bothers his eyes
very wine tinted vision
like blood
coming out from his veins
calling all the flies
for that fiest
that reaches his brain
very sweet
candy like, almost
that's cause of his sweet thoughts
that doesn't fit him anymore
like that old pair of jeans
that shrunk in the dryer
on that hot summer day
with his cold cup of tea
bleeding and staining the table
that's gonna leave a mark
ah, forget about it
we'll just call it art
go back