Appetizer, Pirate Theme

She's not.

I miss the innocence of a twelve year old horny front the first page of playboy, naive enough to think that life is to be explained with a gesture so easy to like sex, I miss that quiet in my head when I came home from school, and I had no thoughts, because my world was there.

Now my world is elsewhere, and while, assembling pieces of the old Dylan songs on a poem by Shakespeare, I dedicate this to all the girls who are "the world" of someone.

"A pound of dark iron"

My lady's soul is forged in the darkest
iron and not joy from her eyes, But only despair can be seen. Likewise
her actions, so full of regrets,
bind her in cold iron bounds.

No light above her head, When She Walks into my room,
telling me “I’m just passing through”. But she should learn,
Everybody must give something back
for something he gets.

She hasn’t seen as many mornings
as a woman has, but she still come and pretend
for me to have respect of her dirty little lips,
while she’s burning, like the sun, in my hands.

She doesn’t know the answer to all my pains
and try to hide herself behind her fears
and i try to save her from herself,
but she’s not my love, she’s not.