Drazen Boskic

At The White Women Inn

My machine on his and his dining table

I wanna take a run but guess little unable

I am just a sand in their castle

God where do you catch

One rattle that could bring me home

One rattle that could make this discomfort done

Just a sand in their castle

And he kills so well

And he kills so bad

He kills so long

And he kills so well

Boy I am silent may I say quiet done

 

Bed and Breakfast paid by a wallet

Of these salty words

Dying under your sheets

Every second I think of home

Boy I got my Sundays out there

Dont you know that dont you know

I dont want a walk Blondy suggests Ill be going off

So where do you catch one rattle

That could bring me home

One rattle that could give Machine Served back its form

Am I dripping down drying out a sea

 

And yes shes a cutie on this earth

We all agree but may I be released cos aunts will whisper

To Him On The Wall

As theyre all around they wont know your name

Cos theyve got a work here to do

Balls and Candies in a Tree

Tricky cinnamon in the air

So it is on their fingertops as well

Cos theyve got a work here to do

Little breasty prayers crying

Where do you catch one rattle

That could bring him home

One rattle that could make him well

 

Ratteling Cocco as Youre just sitting

Upon your Midnight Cloud

It must be a comfortable chair

Catching my waves she starts with she isnt there

While he kills so well

And he kills so bad

And he kills so long

Still Im not quiet done think of home

 

 

 

 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Drazen Boskic.
Published on e-Stories.org on 07/02/2006.

 

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