THE CLOSET STORY.......
It is as cleaning your own Closet with your own bare hands
Then sitting on it with your own bare high class,
Feeling; you are free, free from germs, free from stains,
It’s the same feeling, when she walked away in that rain.
Nothing was as clear, as it was clear on that night,
Sparing few cars, who stopped by, to see if I am alright,
The Scotch was running high and low in my blood;
I could see her sorry face, across the street where she stood.
The rain drops on the street, dropped into the puddle
Looked like a roaring sea, through which I could not paddle.
Hey! Good men, help me out a little, pick me up; make me stand,
Make me still; wave my hands; there she goes to the new island.
The story untold begins from here, what’s there after the end,
I dropped myself in her lap, the doors of which made me intend.
There in the warmth of the twist, I felt her face all to the bloom,
When the Scotch died down, I was still there, On the Closet of my room!!
It is as cleaning your own Closet with your own bare hands
Then sitting on it with your own bare high class,
Feeling; you are free, free from germs, free from stains,
It’s the same feeling, when she walked away in that rain.
Nothing was as clear, as it was clear on that night,
Sparing few cars, who stopped by, to see if I am alright,
The Scotch was running high and low in my blood;
I could see her sorry face, across the street where she stood.
The rain drops on the street, dropped into the puddle
Looked like a roaring sea, through which I could not paddle.
Hey! Good men, help me out a little, pick me up; make me stand,
Make me still; wave my hands; there she goes to the new island.
The story untold begins from here, what’s there after the end,
I dropped myself in her lap, the doors of which made me intend.
There in the warmth of the twist, I felt her face all to the bloom,
When the Scotch died down, I was still there, On the Closet of my room!!
No comments:
Post a Comment