Some call it a boo-boo,
Some call it a bruise,
Whatever you call it,
It is what you choose.
Purple pain, purple pain,
Is that wine in the drain?
Get some ice; hear what I say,
That black eye ain't going away.
I'd write a song about friendship,
But I got nothing to gain,
So I'm writing punch lines,
And singing 'bout purple pain.
Purple pain, purple pain,
Is that blood in the drain?
Whatever it is, hear what I say,
That black eye ain't going away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very interesting poem indeed. Loved and enjoyed it. Nice share.