.jpg?locale=it)
Willow bent
Ethereal, gone
My Old Flame,
It would never remember its name,
Cold days of no light in sight
Surrounded and pictured as Lesotho
In this cold day I still stand untamed
And, dearest enemies,
I have disposed of your name
While I remain in my powerful world of immense vastness
You fool yourselves with uplifting philosophy
Shame my unfunctional body
With your powerful yoga
Want to let me sole in a toga.
So fuck you, how do you do?
Let me wander over the vast plane
Made by the tones of musical masters
While you build the walls for nonsane
Which aim for one in other club, ethereal,
Gone, I’ll never feel sad or worried
Never a time will come where I ever repent
Although entirely bent, put to rest
Like a willow in the path of a fierce tempest
