SANDGLASS

SANDGLASS
Eduardo B. Penteado




A hundred years since she went away
I'm drowning in a storm of silence
Waiting for the day when I won't be
Waiting for madness in vain
Turning her sandglass again, again
again...
Incense is burning
The smoke ghosts
Are dancing naked in the wind


A thousand years since her leaving day
The face on the Moon is gone
I'll bet it's looking for yesterday
When I won't be
Waiting for madness in vain
Turning her sandglass again, again
again...
Incense is burning
The smoke ghosts
Are dead and gone.