I was told my legs are made of Vaseline.
My hands are run like a cold machine.
Wade in some rain,
Wade in some tears,
Doesn't matter.
No one hears.
Say something clever,
Endure the weather.
Drift away,
I'm no where in sight.
Don't worry, dust doesn't bite.
There is no sickness,
There are no plagues.
Can't do anything,
in these Vaseline legs.
No comments:
Post a Comment