Rondel-Devious In My Feeble Step
Devious in my feeble step...
seeking some pure, fresh air
and lay under a shady, tall fir
with strong desire on my lip.
My forehead continues to drip,
not finding any soothing lair;
devious in my feeble step...
seeking some fresh, pure air.
God! halt the desperado's grip...
if he acts in fierce dispair,
resorting to the wildest temper
with his voice lashing like a whip!
Devious in my feeble step...
seeking some pure, fresh air.
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