Mola Mola pinky Mola
Could you take me home
Anywhere out of the winter's tale
Power of verse, the candor of timeworn numbness
The will of life, against the farce of death
Grand promises, no more, no more than pretense.
Good times weave with dusk
Chimes to a stop
Pale look reveals, no hurry, no worry
Endless nightfall, runs
Gazing into horizon, loosen up the sky
Shards and shards of ray
Floating, swirling, scattering, into the crowd
Ending, ponder back and ponder forth
Ending, comes to a stop
Sadness is merely THROBBING
Mola Mola, come to me
Mola Mola, hold me near
