Do what?
Eat, sleep, screw and go to work.
Always the same.
In the thick falling snow.
The baby quails come with the voice.
It’s all right. It’s all right. It’s all right.
In the endless snow, even the mountain,
the blue mountain never bothers the saying…
It’s all right. It’s all right. It’s all right…
Comments »
No comments yet.
RSS feed for comments on this post.
Leave a comment
Line and paragraph breaks automatic, e-mail address never displayed, HTML allowed: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <code> <em> <i> <strike> <strong>

