As the days go by
Tomorrow is far away
The past fades away

The sky is high
The clouds are flowing
making rivers
and draw pictures on the earth

Endless fields of corn
The road

The corn
waving their beards together
and laughing
baring their teeth
with their arms open
Let's call someone
Between the arms
an echo passes through arms
and wet the farmer's chest
and wipe away the their
sweats and tears
and drips down the back of
the farmer's hand
raindrops..........

As the days go by
Tomorrow is coming
The past is coming

Too.