's over. The clumsy life is over. Please play well on the screen supersonic with a cigarette resting on the piano, so it's over. I was thinking just yesterday while I was upstairs and looked at the steps that seemed to never finish. It 's over, really. 35 years are a thing not to be believed, 35 years running the strongest of my desires and I can not do anything. Now when I put the key in the door on the other side there is a cat who can not wait to make love and a little further on there is another that I lick your shoes. Dress up a tower of 45 square feet when it rains and I piss on the world. When I pull out I seem to touch the Subasio because it is from this height I measure my balls.
's over, billions of years and say the magic word. But this time I seriously, I swear. E 'finished the pilgrimage of clichés, dysplasia of the conformists and the flea market: this time the bills do not make me thinking, this time I leave my wife because dancing is so beautiful when it looks like Patty Smith. Then he runs to me and kisses all makes a lot of noise when in motion affection, kissing me all over like a mother kisses her on the 1st month of pregnancy. A mother and her son was born the son am I doing a lot of purring.
This time it's over, really.
Stopped on the pier I looked at the horizon to come. There was a lot of noise and the boats that took off for good fishing. At the fish market I found the chills good point, I heard them digging and hiding a tear in the jacket. Bisceglie on the pier there was a lot of people who had to put her hand into the net, watching them sink, hide. And then deeper into the moving boxes to get us on just a piece of dust. Resting on the pier at least I've got a bit of life left to breathe.
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