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sad love poem

der Himmel
aber alas, gerade Träume
von unseren versteckten Plätzen
da ich der Richtung des Todes geglaubt habe
ich kann nicht Ihnen jetzt erklären
und mein Name ist truthful
schreckliche Wahrheiten diese sind
ich kann nicht seinem greatness immer glauben
wer den Regen liebt
und breakethbrot nicht mehr
diese alte silberne Schüssel von meinen
mit den meek, braunen Augen
sehr gut Sie Liberale


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