Waltz For Zizi
To Lean The Whole World Aside, Not To Touch Or Taste Her Kiss
I have been told to stop crying
for my muse is not coming back.
They said her red painted lips, today
lay the kisses that I adore,
on another man's dirty skin.
After the shouting gray clouds of storm
barefooted, to ask for another try
to lean the whole world aside
far away from my heart
Like a child crying of a bruised knee
I look silly to the world of 'real' men.
Not to touch or taste her kiss, means
for the rest of my life
let her nude forms stray.
So I have listened to their plead.
Sitting empty hearted in the rain
she still loves me,
my love simple, and untouched
how fascinating is for her.
Hidding my frown behind a smile
in front of her
like before the storm began to show,
isn't brave, but lame
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