Vanilla
First time I met you in America.
You showed me the way to your lonely Mars,
where I tumbled down,
where I fall apart,
Would you let me call your name,
Vanilla.
Later you moved to Venezuela
Morphing to flowers blossom in the park,
I begged the sun for
Keeping you unharmed,
Would you let me climb on your stems,
And pick up all your gems,
Ill seed it in the sand,
Could be November, You'll understand,
Next time we meet wont be too long await
Vanilla,
Are you flying alone to Florida?
Storms on the radar,
It's raining hard tonight,
Ill be the shelter in your abandoned yard,
Its last time i call your name,
Vanilla I was the Pilot of the shooting star,
Ive been to places,
now on your lonely Mars,
Weaving villa in the dark.
