SANDGLASS

SANDGLASS

Eduardo B. Penteado

A hundred years since she went away

I'm drowning in a storm of silence

Waiting for the day when I won't be

Waiting for madness in vain

Turning her sandglass again, again

again...

Incense is burning

The smoke ghosts

Are dancing naked in the wind

A thousand years since her leaving day

The face on the Moon is gone

I'll bet it's looking for yesterday

When I won't be

Waiting for madness in vain

Turning her sandglass again, again

again...

Incense is burning

The smoke ghosts

Are dead and gone.