It's four o'clock, you're gone
Five o'clock, you're gone
Six o'clock, seven, the next day
The next day
And maybe who knows...
I'll read a book
You're in it
I listen to songs
You are in it
I sit and eat my bread
You sit in front of me
I work,
You are in front of me
The most beautiful sea,
It's the one that hasn't been visited yet
The most beautiful child
He hasn't grown up yet
Our best days
We haven't lived yet
And what I want to tell you is
The most beautiful word
He hasn't said it yet It's my word
What is he doing now?
Right now, now, now, now
Is he at home or on the street?
Is he sleeping, lying down, standing?
Hold his arm Could it be possible, hey my dear
How can the white man make this move go bare on his wrist?
What is he doing now
Right now, now, now, now
Maybe there is a kitten on his knee, he is caressing it
Maybe he is walking, he is about to throw adymyny
The lover who brings him to me in every dark day
Typyþ typyb
Feet inside Canymyn
And what is he thinking about, me?
Or do I know
Why
Beans don't cook at all?
Or why most people are so
unfortunate?
What is he thinking now
Right now? , now
It's four o'clock, you're gone
It's five o'clock, you're gone
It's six o'clock, seven, the next day
The next day
And maybe who knows...

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