Lyre

If the mountains climb up to the heaven
I could reach you tonight honey
Just to talk to you
Should I follow you baby?
At your morning breakfast
Of vodka and some vicodins

Every is writed in my wall
To your old Chinaski Dog

Everytime that I looking
At my rear view mirror
I remember that day
That we look so cool
Reading old Chinaski
At your marked pages
Suddenly reminds me who I really am

Every is writed in my wall
To your old Chinaski dog

Threw my body to the forest nymphs
Maybe my decapted head will sing your name
No matter how I play the lyre for you
I keep hear your empty scream, statue of salt