Moth Again
Oh, little moth, oh, ocean of your eyes,
And pitch of hairs that’s covering your shoulders
Where did you hide, you’re reason of my cries,
when candles burn when heart is pressed with boulders?..
When I have a dinner and I am alone
I try to see you, oh, imagination,
When I have really tired of neon
I’m playing fool I’m feeling condemnation.
I’m getting anger, night will come so soon,
Night’s woe is cold it’s wrong it’s cruel,
Oh, little moth you’d help me with the moon
I rave in passion and I burn with fuel.
Oh, little moth, oh, ocean of your eyes,
And pitch of hairs that’s covering your shoulders
You can’t be mine, you’re reason of my cries,
When candles burn and heart is pressed with boulders.
Copyright © Serge Lyrewing | Year Posted 2018
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