They took my rifle and gave me a smoke
they took my rifle and gave me a rope
there is not an ounce of fire
there is not an ounce of failure
my true love sailed to Mexico
my true love set sail
upon the hells bridge to Europa
upon the tracks of litters whales
they gave me pulper liaise
they gave me a map in a maze
and the hills I found
and she cries aloud
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem