Pau Autor

I took a trip, down the memory lane,
where I used to see the man Mr. Dane,
days, when I have letter from paper plane,
I remember the man named Mr. Dane.
...

There came a tapping on my windowpane,
surprised to know that it was Mr. Dane,
...

My identity can never be found,
you'll never hear how I really sound,
you seldom see me frown,
yes, I'am the clown
...

Please, no, please don't say it out loud,
I know to me you're never proud,
you did not, you're not, you will not
you say those words and put a dot
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Learned to sing the song Do, Re, Mi,
then began counting one, two, three,
most of all she knew A, B, C,
a girl with a name Amelie.
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I never knew,
never even had a clue,
I'm confuse if the feeling is true,
maybe we're just walking in Green Avenue.
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How can I forget those April summers.
Blue now is brighter to deeply to tell.
Red roses too our favorite flowers.
Scars were silver and words rang as knell.
...