I am tired of checking my pockets
How can I recover
When all around are thieves,
When beauty undercover
Is pierced the way of sieves?
So quick I reach for color,
Time loss among my peeves;
Before sitting is over,
Une œuvre with falling leaves.
How can I recover
When all around are thieves,
When beauty undercover
Is pierced the way of sieves?
So quick I reach for color,
Time loss among my peeves;
Before sitting is over,
Une œuvre with falling leaves.