Sixty Three

Take me to the train, whose turn is it to speak, she listens to the rain, sees sunlit avenues, not a roof that leaks, free from all bad news, Paris, Marseilles, far from this house of geeks, somewhere sunny opaque, says you'll listen soon, when walls turn grey, in your hostal room, does this mark the day, when crazy inner deeds, come out to play, besides us a magnolia blooms, love turns ninety degrees, it's not her tune, not what she wants to say, who would believe, what lies forsaken, can you smell the sea ? ,