jeremi handrinos
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fiogf49gjkf0d I hope you have dark hair
Like my mother,
A touch Irish with a clover.
I would play you my gypsy violin
Through November
Dipping you back into stars
And perfect wild skies.
You would never grow tired of me
Child, I am the poet
A devil an angel
Ask anyone, they know it
They will warn you of my voice
And the songs God had me sing
When I wore these horns with pride...
Before I lost the wings.
I pray you are a healer
And do not mind
When I toss and turn,
and scream through-out the night
I am honest, and not afraid
To give a woman magic words
Of secrets long betrayed,
But not how things should stay.
I am music, so you'd move quick
With me through town and state
A different setting everyday
From gold to silver plate
But money and fame we'd know
We're ducks just in a row
A great way to get slow,
But like I said, we'd know.
I would drape you with
Ancient stones and whispers
Paint your toe-nails like the night
Bet your ass I am a bastard
Mother's right to say I bite,
but I'm real, and I'm brave
And I'm no-body's slave
but your's if you'll have me.
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