Decorate My Legs
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Wearing a horseskin as a dress,
I'm ready for all those;
Blacksmith, please, make me fresh
And decorate
My legs with horseshoes!
There are gravelly roads that make a circle
From our lives to the hell,
Those roads and the king's men
Looking for me.
Bearing the king's burden
I've to must
Run fast
And embrace my fate.
No way to escape anywhere.
No way to hate.
Till death
No way to be free.
Blacksmith, I guess, you know and aware:
Of all the parties, towards the throne,
God prefers the ruling one, alone.
Bu şiiri puanla
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