not remember where I last saw it, this has nothing to do with the distance, not my memory, are not narcotics, is my life, this last time almost escapes my memory, it took only a few minutes to gray mass that spins my memories, baste a cruel oblivion. I do not remember who expected, probably no, but the first time I saw that first meeting that depth behind that shook my destiny. There
sitting in the gutter, watching the people of my city, not new but the skirts that were beginning to cut back without interest that the two legs were beginning to lengthen, then arrived in a chariot drawn by species a mule as filthy as they are, and there they were, he with his wavy hair and long hair, his bushy beard color a dark leaden, and her golden hair genuine animal that stood on two legs launching a scary growl, and started the feature from a major storm, of course that most pedestrians fled in terror, wondering along with six children watched as the wavy-haired animal was swimming around a beautiful brown bear a few days later not were only children, almost all the people ran the show, the man played the accordion, she danced, sang and I both at the end I had to ask many questions, Florence never answered the most important question, but does that matter, to this point.
Do not blame the beauty of my folly, my weakness always bowed to her, I can say in my defense I was young and a locomotive running through my veins, I sometimes think I could have done but to run away with that company, smell the grass, sweating, fear, lost in paths that I deposited in a sea of \u200b\u200bresponses and after a plunge in question my shortcomings, the other, the other would have been dull routine, may inherit my mother's room and belongings, working in the store are very lucky Casimiro impregnate her daughter less graceful. Being anonymous
oddity was a noble enough for a 63 year ago, when rock and roll was beginning to dawn take my few things and undertake a journey not take long to predict: the reasons, its uncertainty, its landscapes and colors, but I insisted very much in mind and every morning I wondered where they would go or another meeting would be capable of forgetting: all and none. Florence sick shortly after, the shows were never the same, as would make, if I ran away was because at night when I was young I imagined walking through the streets in Florence, Lima, New York, London or any puddle but always engaged Florence manner and most natural way, without strings or muzzles or anything that disturbs its beautiful walk, people imagined as successive waves turned around to admire the beauty of Florence and was extremely happy. Florence as seriously ill and with it came my misfortune, I had to sacrifice shot twice in the head, between nights endless bars and alcohol it took two years to improvise a new number with Paul, the mule filthy, despite his keen aesthetic appreciation nothing would ever be the same.
ended up in these huge cities we could never visit in Florence, Frank could not stand it and one night I asked between tears do likewise inevitable that years ago decided to do with Florence, this time it was just a shot. As you can imagine after so many ups and downs no circumstances grieves me, except one. There are nights I fell asleep in a fight do not find, those nights in the place that was my gypsy existence, Florence and Frank come for me in a chariot at full speed, a float which appears to emanate colorful accordion melodies, comes with breakneck speed and before I realized I appear, it's not me, but dirty mule.
sitting in the gutter, watching the people of my city, not new but the skirts that were beginning to cut back without interest that the two legs were beginning to lengthen, then arrived in a chariot drawn by species a mule as filthy as they are, and there they were, he with his wavy hair and long hair, his bushy beard color a dark leaden, and her golden hair genuine animal that stood on two legs launching a scary growl, and started the feature from a major storm, of course that most pedestrians fled in terror, wondering along with six children watched as the wavy-haired animal was swimming around a beautiful brown bear a few days later not were only children, almost all the people ran the show, the man played the accordion, she danced, sang and I both at the end I had to ask many questions, Florence never answered the most important question, but does that matter, to this point.
Do not blame the beauty of my folly, my weakness always bowed to her, I can say in my defense I was young and a locomotive running through my veins, I sometimes think I could have done but to run away with that company, smell the grass, sweating, fear, lost in paths that I deposited in a sea of \u200b\u200bresponses and after a plunge in question my shortcomings, the other, the other would have been dull routine, may inherit my mother's room and belongings, working in the store are very lucky Casimiro impregnate her daughter less graceful. Being anonymous
oddity was a noble enough for a 63 year ago, when rock and roll was beginning to dawn take my few things and undertake a journey not take long to predict: the reasons, its uncertainty, its landscapes and colors, but I insisted very much in mind and every morning I wondered where they would go or another meeting would be capable of forgetting: all and none. Florence sick shortly after, the shows were never the same, as would make, if I ran away was because at night when I was young I imagined walking through the streets in Florence, Lima, New York, London or any puddle but always engaged Florence manner and most natural way, without strings or muzzles or anything that disturbs its beautiful walk, people imagined as successive waves turned around to admire the beauty of Florence and was extremely happy. Florence as seriously ill and with it came my misfortune, I had to sacrifice shot twice in the head, between nights endless bars and alcohol it took two years to improvise a new number with Paul, the mule filthy, despite his keen aesthetic appreciation nothing would ever be the same.
ended up in these huge cities we could never visit in Florence, Frank could not stand it and one night I asked between tears do likewise inevitable that years ago decided to do with Florence, this time it was just a shot. As you can imagine after so many ups and downs no circumstances grieves me, except one. There are nights I fell asleep in a fight do not find, those nights in the place that was my gypsy existence, Florence and Frank come for me in a chariot at full speed, a float which appears to emanate colorful accordion melodies, comes with breakneck speed and before I realized I appear, it's not me, but dirty mule.
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