Drazen Boskic

Easter´s Age

Haven’t smelled Djarum for three days are you in here

This time even Easter’s crept away

As fast as a raindrop ran off my window

Something strange on days like these

Remembering as I was saying

The Undurraga’s usually red to us

but I am talking over adulthood can’t you see

It’s not our blood anymore

He just blew me a groce clove cloud to deal with

Couldn’t he or didn’t he want to see

 

Haven’t smelled Java’s Fella’s for three days

Don’t know what he means when he says

These overages don’t make a difference

He said that we are them and that they’re us

Couldn’t he or didn’t he want to hear

Friend think I am inanimate in here I think free

But for that Sweet’s under ages still maladjusted

Baby guess we’re not them and they’re not us

Even still usually red for us

Can’t you see it’s not our blood

 

I got logged onto personals

Where a niece’s becoming eighteen

What you’ve got in your hand girl

The elixir of your youth

But you have a guest called Play Breaker

Here may I have him if everyone has Left and Right

While I’ll be hanging in between

Golden Necklaces oh my

You just drink your blood and I’ll be drinking mine

 

Mother don’t wanna red

I want green eggs

Do I need to beg

Please take me out of here

And in the morning

They’re all still here brunching

Guess girl he is missing

 

Boy can’t you see can’t you hear me

We’re not them and they’re not us

Even still usually red for us

Can’t you see it’s not our blood

But let’s go on

Undurraga will still be waiting

He just blew me a groce clove cloud to deal with

Couldn’t he or didn’t he want to hear me

 

 

 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Drazen Boskic.
Published on e-Stories.org on 03.07.2006.

 
 

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