Jose Vanders
Mr. Arundel
old man smokes his pipe
shakes until the leaves are dry
shakes until his eyes are dry
floating past, avert your stare
from bloodshot eyes, an icy glare
and, and
we play games with each other's lines
we play games with each other's time
with each other's lives days pass, swift as the rain
swims through trenches of softened terrain
swims through the rain
stone cold, rooted to earth
sits like a statue covered by dirt
latin words around his feet
we play games with each other's lines
we play games with each other's time
with each other's lives mr arundel you look so tired
lying in a box that the vicar has hired
oh...
From Letras Mania