Drazen Boskic

Easterīs Age

Havenít smelled Djarum for three days are you in here

This time even Easterís crept away

As fast as a raindrop ran off my window

Something strange on days like these

Remembering as I was saying

The Undurragaís usually red to us

but I am talking over adulthood canít you see

Itís not our blood anymore

He just blew me a groce clove cloud to deal with

Couldnít he or didnít he want to see

 

Havenít smelled Javaís Fellaís for three days

Donít know what he means when he says

These overages donít make a difference

He said that we are them and that theyíre us

Couldnít he or didnít he want to hear

Friend think I am inanimate in here I think free

But for that Sweetís under ages still maladjusted

Baby guess weíre not them and theyíre not us

Even still usually red for us

Canít you see itís not our blood

 

I got logged onto personals

Where a nieceís becoming eighteen

What youíve got in your hand girl

The elixir of your youth

But you have a guest called Play Breaker

Here may I have him if everyone has Left and Right

While Iíll be hanging in between

Golden Necklaces oh my

You just drink your blood and Iíll be drinking mine

 

Mother donít wanna red

I want green eggs

Do I need to beg

Please take me out of here

And in the morning

Theyíre all still here brunching

Guess girl he is missing

 

Boy canít you see canít you hear me

Weíre not them and theyíre not us

Even still usually red for us

Canít you see itís not our blood

But letís go on

Undurraga will still be waiting

He just blew me a groce clove cloud to deal with

Couldnít he or didnít he want to hear me

 

 

 

 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Drazen Boskic.
Published on e-Stories.org on 07/03/2006.

 

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