For Song Poem by Vain Rig

I was born too old
with a long white beard
and a smell of alcohol in my hair
Seeing the brick wall and the ocean behind
With no feeling of coming back
Or force for going out
The reason I walk is only in reason
The way to believe is controlled
In the season
Smoke from a cigarette
Just make real another sin
Not more
Not more
Even a land cancer not important
And the idea that you were born
For love
Or being a mother
Or anything else
Shouldn't bother
Cause it's not real
Produced by someone's brain
Which used to be smart
But dumbed for his own reason
Remained unknow
To the rest of the peace.