domingo, 20 de fevereiro de 2011

My 3 Glasses of Red Wine

Who can be a greater pal
Than the one who just stands there
Listening, staring at you
With his deep shining eyes,
Just like my 3 glasses
Of red wine?

There's a past to unveil.
A past to forget
Once understood.
A past to discover
And forget.

A past to cry
For a minute or two,
And a present to accept
Or reshape.

There's also a whole bunch of excuses
To fuck off.


It's time for a 4th glass
Of red wine.

And another one too... long as there's jazz
Being played by souls
Rotten as they should be.

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© 2007-2011 Pedro Abreu