| |
|
My clown
rolls his head as the music box plays...
dun dun dun dun
dudun dum
I reach out to wind it up again for the hundredth time.
I
found my old pal tonight,
head full of white hair,
face faded, I had
to do a quick make-up job on him.
This strange melody he plays
old and
familiar
I play it again,
and listen again.
Take me back, my
friend,
I can almost feel my childhood
underneath all my troubles
underneath the dust collected through the years
his head rolls back
looking up at me
smiling
so happy
so innocent
his face,
so free,
white like clouds
lined with silver that shines
like
his hair.
His bleeding eyes only carry tears
from falling off his
tricycle.
His rainbow-striped suit,
with an itchy lace collar,
is
a little too big for him.
It comes with a matching hat,
a nightcap,
that hangs down his back
where the metal key is
I wind him up
one last time
watch his head roll slowly
bright red mouth,
forever smiling
black marker eyes,
watching me. |
|
