Kevin Two

Put me on the train, I can hardly speak, you listen to the rain, forget sunlit avenues, or this roof that leaks, a bucket fills bad news, Paris or Marseilles, anywhere that speaks, not somewhere fake, pray I’ll see you soon, before my hair is grey, in your lavender room, please don’t mark the day, when crazy inner deeds, come out to play, besides you a magnolia blooms, love turns at ninety degrees, it’s not my tune, what is there to say, who would believe, prayers are forsaken, when you hear the sea?