He was a loner
Maybe a king without reign
For sure a nowhere man
Or still, he was the fool on the hill
Writting silly stupid things for the love of his life
that was dancing in a strawberry field
She was the needle and the damage done
He was as an old furniture in the yard
waiting to be, taken away
She was the flower he never had
a shinny star over his head
she was every morning after a cold night
a tear drop falling from his eyes
Escrita e gravada entre 2002-2003, talvez 2004
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