to Sir William S.Burroughs
---------------------------------------------------------------
I remember we had a lot of fun, but I didn't understand
why did you shoot your wife
even for a junk like me it would feel sad
seeing her dead, in the blood.
***
When I was lying in Mexico and eating peyote,
all my dreams was of "Dead Man", well, I became
curious,
why the Indians are smarter than me.
In the worn-out jeans and worn boots,
professional logger, I have been sitting for the eighth year,
I would jump on this fast train,
which travels to Oregon,
***
There is an old motel, through the evening lights,
are you still waiting me there?
How many years I do not remember
in the worn out jeans and holey shoes,
all loggers lumberjack,
Through the dark sky, the train carries me to an old motel,
old janki, i'm pouring a glass of gin,
and I'll take the guitar in my hands, let me sing lousy,
but I can play you a thread.
***
