There's always a Lamborghini,
that will always remind me,
My best years where the heresy
of the first time she touched me.
I'm now of old of the sullen hills,
and dust in this room on the window sill.
My best years are now in the past,
of how I wish a magician could cast.
We are now of aging of the scars,
and beauty that has raged so far,
I never wished but for someone to end me,
I never met my soul-mate to bear here,
and I struggle with the demons of a bear
every time, I see beauty of flowers and trees
and of how merry young play as children.
How I wish again I was six and could join them....
Foreigner living in a strange new world,
where hoola hoops are no longer hurled.
Phones and computers engage the new brains,
and silent is a grasshopper on every of the trains.....
Invisible to ear to ear of technology here now,
and how us weeds are forbidden to grow...
