With pancakes and syrup running in our blood
I watch her play by play
Jumping up and down in her little night gown
Feeling her feathers and grinding her teeth
Humming her owm high pitch love song
As she sways beneath my sheets
She says there's a place for dreams and things
At the end of a rainbow where the sun falls down
Where logic is never welcome
And the women dress in gold and undress again
Have you been there?
Have you been there?
Have you been there my friend?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem