Sunday, 5 April 2020
Roberto Two
How my voice is raised,
now you turn me loose,
no more hot summer days,
I hate to be alone,
trapped by my own curfew,
exploding on the Metro,
you’re no angel,
bringing something new,
to spike my rage,
who pays the loans,
for all the losers,
listens to their usual groans,
before you set sail ,
everything seemed good,
on what we created,
if you’re on your bones,
I’ll turn the screw,
on everything you own,
now you’re away,
what am I to do,
slowly go crazy,
on golden avenues?
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