by Ana
A lotus petal falls from the heavens
A soft breeze wafts over the willows
It whispers the name "Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles"
It is sweet music to my ears
Sweet sweet salvation in your eyes
You are one hot mama Mr. Bojangles
The barren trees of winter are me without you, Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles
Their branches scratch the sky with impatience
The last leaves of their branches drift morosely to the brook below
I want naked pictures of you Mr. Bojangles
I can see the depth of eternity in your eyes
they are pools of happiness caught in a single moment
like a butterfly in the wind,
the whispering winds sweep the voices of the past through the rustling
leaves of the starlit night
can we please have a drunken orgy Mr. Bojangles?
the vibrant flowers tilt back and forth
in a manner that seems inviting
fanning the air with their perfume
they seem to whisper into the void.
I want to have your 425 children Mr. Bojangles
