Sunday morning ... ah ..
what could be better on Sunday morning ...
you wake up at his house, after you've slept all night embraced as one thing .. you wake up and smile, she answers you laughing ... an infectious laugh that lights up the room even before the sun's rays can filter through the shutters tightly closed and the curtains on those windows were open all night ...
you get up, the hugs, the kisses and then go into the kitchen to have breakfast ... you are in her underwear and wearing your pants instead of those beautiful green arriving right down to my knees ... below is bare .. and this I say a little 'under his breath because certain things you can not scream ... even if you would like to take a megaphone literally look out the window and tell the world that may have started to realize that burnt the person with whom you've just spent the night.
The milk is cold, who wants to warm? and then you drink it cold you know it .. is when you loose lips from the breast of your mother that you do not drink nearly as warm milk ...
sugar? it by force .. a pound of sugar and then an avalanche of grain, eh ... cookies if you fucked that scoundrel is the brother of your her ... mica stupid boy .. 8 years you were more stupid .. when you went away the first thing I drew was that beloved pillow and puppets .. those who thought the biscuits?!?
cereal ah ... delicious cereal ... but who the stupid stories? you're more focused on cereals or green eyes? You can tell it to me ... we both know how difficult it is to have breakfast in front of her when you are just 30 centimeters from her face and eyes that do not detach from your ... hypnotized? and you? what they say his eyes? and yours? Who knows how many thoughts through your head .. or maybe there's just nothing .. vacuum .. or maybe you just wish that the cereals do not end up ever more to continue to look at for eternity?
Is it a dream?
if so do not wake me .. thanks ...
what you think you have a split personality? but you do moves you? or fatigue? maybe you're too happy ... I understand you instill .. Bandabardò heard a song .. a song that reminds you of the afternoon spent with her at home ...
Attention, concentration, rhythm and vitality ...
I have to give gas, I want energy, coal and put crazy .. If I relax .. collapse .. I can not breathe and joy! and therefore:
Attention, concentration, rhythm and vitality ...
HATE THE PAJAMAS! and I see red .. if the earth is calling me I can not stay closed between 4 walls .. I care to live! and therefore:
Attention concentration, rhythm and vitality ...
'm still a ride, do not step away from, rather than not play and walk away .. outside the vessel, out of mind, I have always one foot on the engine .. I want to give
gas energy! I put coal and madness! .. If I relax collapse .. I can not breathe and the happiness ... and therefore:
Attention, concentration, rhythm and vitality ...
Attention, concentration, rhythm and vitality ...
I have to give gas, I want energy, coal and put crazy .. If I relax .. collapse .. I can not breathe and joy! and therefore:
Attention, concentration, rhythm and vitality ...
Attention, concentration, rhythm and vitality ...
Attention, concentration, rhythm and vitality ...
careful, concentrations must, rhythm and vitalitààà ...
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