Dali,Bob and Me
How does it feel,to be in a crowd that's
so grey?
Know one to understand ,like cows
grazing in a field of baby blue
grass.
know one having one single answer
that will make hope last.
Until the next time we wine in need of
milk.
Like rolling stones going down a hill
made of silk.
Beautiful colours every where ,but
beening mean we hope it rips.
Black and blue cowboys with guns
on hips.
Though the false love that I have
and the real desire from not having
put in red.
How does it feel to not know anything
any more?
Soul is at the core.
Opening vault, signs of the times,
hidden in Purple skies, why?
can i dream of a Bull killing the
Matador?
I rather love,who wants me to kill
what for?
I quit!
Let me think,while the Sun starts to
sink in pink.
Bob asked" How does it feel to be like
a rolling stone?
I only keep moving, because I want life
to leave me alone.
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