Friday the 13th
On Mariposa street
The four classes
Busy adopting books of the chrome to a new home
On one's own a life update
To the likes of MacOS 11 Big Sur
Over Semana Santa after Easter past Passover
"Two weeks time" we preconceived la rentrée
A comeback with rested pupils waiting to see
The bluest hour and morning's offerings
Nothing from before but home
Locked doors and windows closed
A virus coaxed my covetous sights on
Saint Helena's vacant graves on New Zealand's free fun
Stealing from me the generous
And my juvenile "When the time comes'
There's only so much happiness in this apartment
Yet more than enough stress
The squeaking at every nod of a door's nob
The residence's people robbed of any driven job
For which humanity worked centuries to never cerebrate about
"He's been odd and off!
The triad added decoding what was wrong
With my Christian conditioned monolith mind
With no diocese to discern that everything had changed
The unusually curious
Bizarre breathing bounced out
I sensed the life in me tapping out
Jousting against my dead-ended lament
Whilst curled up into a ball thinking
"How can I be the dove in this flood?"
Well I'd figured one day
Given everything's changed
I could tiptoe around
Calm the creeks and crannies of this house
At least enough to keep me a vale or spare away
From the Cruela in me.
I discovered the Dolores C in myself
Sweetly watching Candy Candy
Shoulder-to-shoulder with my mother
Learning language parrot-fashion
By one green bird with my father
Carefully crafting a poesy LP
With my brother And watching myself recapture
What I had lost between the tetrad.
I am a dove in this flood
Believing through an olive leaf
Now from day to day
And laugh to laugh
Friday the 13th has passed
I look forward to Sunday the 7th
On the 7th day of the week
Biding time to write another slab of poetry
About all the time I had.
Friday the 13th Video (MV)
Orestes Pluto - Friday the 13th Lyrics
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English
Friday the 13th
On Mariposa street
The four classes
Busy adopting books of the chrome to a new home
On one's own a life update
To the likes of MacOS 11 Big Sur
Over Semana Santa after Easter past Passover
"Two weeks time" we preconceived la rentrée
A comeback with rested pupils waiting to see
The bluest hour and morning's offerings
Nothing from before but home
Locked doors and windows closed
A virus coaxed my covetous sights on
Saint Helena's vacant graves on New Zealand's free fun
Stealing from me the generous
And my juvenile "When the time comes'
There's only so much happiness in this apartment
Yet more than enough stress
The squeaking at every nod of a door's nob
The residence's people robbed of any driven job
For which humanity worked centuries to never cerebrate about
"He's been odd and off!
The triad added decoding what was wrong
With my Christian conditioned monolith mind
With no diocese to discern that everything had changed
The unusually curious
Bizarre breathing bounced out
I sensed the life in me tapping out
Jousting against my dead-ended lament
Whilst curled up into a ball thinking
"How can I be the dove in this flood?"
Well I'd figured one day
Given everything's changed
I could tiptoe around
Calm the creeks and crannies of this house
At least enough to keep me a vale or spare away
From the Cruela in me.
I discovered the Dolores C in myself
Sweetly watching Candy Candy
Shoulder-to-shoulder with my mother
Learning language parrot-fashion
By one green bird with my father
Carefully crafting a poesy LP
With my brother And watching myself recapture
What I had lost between the tetrad.
I am a dove in this flood
Believing through an olive leaf
Now from day to day
And laugh to laugh
Friday the 13th has passed
I look forward to Sunday the 7th
On the 7th day of the week
Biding time to write another slab of poetry
About all the time I had.
On Mariposa street
The four classes
Busy adopting books of the chrome to a new home
On one's own a life update
To the likes of MacOS 11 Big Sur
Over Semana Santa after Easter past Passover
"Two weeks time" we preconceived la rentrée
A comeback with rested pupils waiting to see
The bluest hour and morning's offerings
Nothing from before but home
Locked doors and windows closed
A virus coaxed my covetous sights on
Saint Helena's vacant graves on New Zealand's free fun
Stealing from me the generous
And my juvenile "When the time comes'
There's only so much happiness in this apartment
Yet more than enough stress
The squeaking at every nod of a door's nob
The residence's people robbed of any driven job
For which humanity worked centuries to never cerebrate about
"He's been odd and off!
The triad added decoding what was wrong
With my Christian conditioned monolith mind
With no diocese to discern that everything had changed
The unusually curious
Bizarre breathing bounced out
I sensed the life in me tapping out
Jousting against my dead-ended lament
Whilst curled up into a ball thinking
"How can I be the dove in this flood?"
Well I'd figured one day
Given everything's changed
I could tiptoe around
Calm the creeks and crannies of this house
At least enough to keep me a vale or spare away
From the Cruela in me.
I discovered the Dolores C in myself
Sweetly watching Candy Candy
Shoulder-to-shoulder with my mother
Learning language parrot-fashion
By one green bird with my father
Carefully crafting a poesy LP
With my brother And watching myself recapture
What I had lost between the tetrad.
I am a dove in this flood
Believing through an olive leaf
Now from day to day
And laugh to laugh
Friday the 13th has passed
I look forward to Sunday the 7th
On the 7th day of the week
Biding time to write another slab of poetry
About all the time I had.
Writer: Adan Cruz
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid