Eight Line Poem

The tactful cactus by your window
Surveys the prairie of your room
The mobile spins to its collision
Clara puts her head between her paws
They've opened shops down West side
Will all the cacti find a home
But the key to the city
Is in the sun that pins the branches to the sky

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В сером королевстве, во мраке и холоде, В надменном, с блеклыми цветами, городе, Погрязшем навеки в болезнях и голоде, Дрожащем свете молнии, ночного грома грохоте В пустой дворцовой комнате душно от копоти, Юный принц грустит,

Counting all different ideas driftin away Past and present they don't matter not if you just sort it out Watch your moving in elliptical pattern Think it's not what you say What you say is

Seven in the morning (morning), seven messages on my cell phone Already know who's calling (calling), I better get home I'm innocent (innocent), it wasn't my fault, DJ had me caught up I

Brown baby Brown baby As you grow up I want you to drink from the plenty cup I want you to stand up Tall and proud I want you to speak up Speak up clear and cloud Brown

Everywhere I go, Everywhere I go I see an image of her face, She talks to me, She talks to me in a thousand ways; Everyone I know, Everyone I know is calling on the