Dead

There lived a boy, a little boy,

He thought I’d be his funny toy,

He kissed with smile, he kissed with laugh,

He thought “It’s game”, but it was life.

He thought: “I’m cleaver, she is sweet,

She is a cake I gonna eat,

She is a silly pretty thing,

I’ll make it best”. What did I think?

I thought: “My little lovely boy!

No matter. Think it’s all for joy.

No matter. Think it’s just your game.

You’ll laugh at me, I’ll do the same.

I like you, babe; I’ll play, I’ll smile.

I like you, babe, I like your stile.

But day will come, we’ll stop to lie.

It’ll be the second time you die”.