The sky moves
My cigaret burns
And gypsy radio dances
Smoke coils in esoteric shapes
Up where the air is cool
Dinner for six boils, rolls
Six, six lonely days.
Days of discovery.
Discover, no, acquaint is the word.
Gypsy radio, Shadows on the wall.
Empty glass half full.
Rolling with the punches.
Gypsy radio.
