(Dedicato: Jean Debats, Le Marquis)
COME YE ALL to France to pillage, lay Sword on Sword, drink the sweet wine and suckle on repasts, now like TOURISTS do today where IMPRESSIONISTS lay on lay.
Come Ye all to France once WARRIORS bowed their long-bow, yesterdays artillary-arrowed night into day like DRONES in the Ukraine, a PISS. Russian Missiles?
Come all ye to France. Everyones broke. Dont pay Taxes if U can help it.. Folks keep gettin bein BORN, GETTIN MARRIED; outside of FAMILY (poof) we put them in the ground, the good EARTH, where else, our tradition? MERDE!!! Yes. We cry!
Come Ye all to FRANCE where LIFE was always kosher; live and let live: smell the Roses! A lovers kiss on a rainy Paris boulevard, your witness to infinity, leastways savour?..cest la vie. No-one will EVER know your sollilliquely, its TONE or your Night-s goodbye that whispers, sometimes SINGS a Marseillaise or the BERET we throw into the air like our LOVE, so easily cast away.
c.davedelacroix. (Bloody laptop spell-thingy)
No comments:
Post a Comment