Cyrillic Nikita

Oh Nikita is it cold

In the corner of your room

On the top of the hill

Where the bush burns bright manifold

There are desires in your heart you will never know

There are holes in our soul as we march to the goal

You think you are playing chess with Hannibal

You may find I am just a clown out of his mind

You of all the things laughed at a story well told

Now I know the Joker died winning an award

and Batman fell for the oldest trap in the world

Oh Nikita you will never know

Anything about my home

I will never know how it feels to hug you

As I play chess with your mind

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I was good once I had eyes that were brown

I could strike a pose

I could stop a clock too

But they told me I was too loud

And Jesus wanted me in bed

And Hanuman wanted me dead

So Nikita you will never know

Anything about where I will go

You will never see my face I will never make you laugh

They will burn my body below the corn

They will burn my bones in the snow

Screenshot from 2016-03-02 14:17:30

 

 

Author: Ajay Ohri

http://about.me/ajayohri

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