Not much unlike others; he used to put on
his toothless smile, and blink to his soul
in the mirror, "I'm no bounder, but one
From a bunch of smart gamblers,betting our life
on the birth or fall of leaves.I love the brew
of dreams, a bath in the vapour of a hot spring
and the nostalgia of country wine.
Each day is a rattle on rails.Everyday every one
meanders. But not me. Am I not a laughing Buddha,
seasoned to echoes of frail applauds, they remind
the iciness of autumn.But never fear, my good chum,
each day is a step towards eternal gleam." That day,
his eyes had a strange fire. That day, there was
a strain of violin in the wind.They found him hanging,
One limp bay leaf in an autumn mist.
his toothless smile, and blink to his soul
in the mirror, "I'm no bounder, but one
From a bunch of smart gamblers,betting our life
on the birth or fall of leaves.I love the brew
of dreams, a bath in the vapour of a hot spring
and the nostalgia of country wine.
Each day is a rattle on rails.Everyday every one
meanders. But not me. Am I not a laughing Buddha,
seasoned to echoes of frail applauds, they remind
the iciness of autumn.But never fear, my good chum,
each day is a step towards eternal gleam." That day,
his eyes had a strange fire. That day, there was
a strain of violin in the wind.They found him hanging,
One limp bay leaf in an autumn mist.