Where will I pitch my tent?

Will be tall fair purple or black!?

Tall short medium or slack?

Slice big large flat buttocks?

All of them got butts

 

Will it be the one that greet good morning

After the eating and drinking will there be moaning?

All of them comes with mornings

will it be the beautiful shy, always running?

Where will I gather my village?

A four star pillage?

Or a simple green terrace

Which of them will give me the courage

And will never be afraid of my rage?

Which of them can build a broken image?

Who will look only at my garage

Those people who only see the mirage

And spits on simple adage

 

Who will share my tent?

For once I sing

And the heavens quip

It has been signed

By then it going to be a long way

With my precious

Whosoever she is.....