A Long Walk Against the Wind

A long walk against the wind
It blows my hair until I get the
-- hairstyle of a foolish clown, I
sense of hope, love, and death
The sun rises in my sorrows and
dazzle its light against the wound
of the deaf moon, where I am just
alcoholic to continue to lie to myself
I walk and the cigarette on my mouth
She writes a sorrowful poem and reads it
-- to the exhaled smoke out of my lungs
as my eyes cry to hear what I resisted
I no longer need to be wild and sweet
When my friends are making mistakes
The moonlight over Montreal is a restful
sight from the eyes of a woman I coloured
With her face that helps me to cure me
With her hands that lead me to Baghdad
A long stroll through the gate of festivities
-- will walk me to the origin of perfumed candle