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christmas poem

le vieil ouest, le vieux temps
quand je suis retourné au coucher du soleil
il n'y a aucune évasion par le fleuve
avec ses cheveux flaying d'une manière extravagante
comment j'aidez vers la droite le monde qui tourne mal
il aurait même sa plaisanterie
nous nous étendons
je dédaigne mes amis davantage que vous
pourquoi
qui appellera le vent
il parle pas bien
quand j'ai regardé dans vos yeux
dans sa tente gardée

 



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