The Wanderers - after the reddish one

Strangers under the streetlights.
Strangers on a voyage.
Extracting the oil from the jasmines.
We are becoming knowledgeable about the vitamins.

If we could get them, we could last longer.
If only we could travel underground.
Let’s take the reddish one.
Grab your bags let’s go to the sunken path.

Say hi to the guy with the starts on his eyes.
Don’t be rude, shake his hand.
He is here to help.
…He is only here to help.

Tell him I remember the time he show me the land…
in the little blue car we drove around
the expressionist painting of the countryside.

Wanderers we were.
Strangers…where have we gone.
Perfect strangers what have we done.
The more we know about each other
the less, we mavericks, wish we knew.

The Dandy-Noveau-Beat Bohemians.

My throat is excruciatingly itchy and I keep coughing in pain.
My skin is golden tan, it feels like I’ve burned my brain.
My hair is getting longer and it gets messier by the day.

Santino is mad at me. Oh my dear 60’s reincarnated baby…
He misses the reckless driving and the bumps on the road. Maybe.
I guess some traveling will make him reflect.
I have to give him some love and affect.
Since he lost his shroom he hasn’t been the same.

Oh my sweet confident artist is coming back again
From the land down south, I will see him again.
It’s hard for me to understand how some people...
just don’t care. My advice: Care more, It will pay off.
Unless you want to go around with your mask of Mr. Tough.
Well if that’s so, then keep your distance, in short- fuck off.
I know miss from the east. As usual you are probably right. I overdose on caring.
I should go back in time and be the other Gemini’s twin. But why?
I want to love and give my all. I can’t say no. I rather die sharing and being daring.
I said it before, you are right. I’ll end up all torn up, like all the other times.
But it’s ok. It’s alright. Let’s embrace the past with a cigarette on my left hand.
I will drink Tanqueray, Vodka, Rum and Wine on your name.
Pass the bottle. I need to forget.
I will find a way to move around the earth with la Fee Verte guiding me by the right hand.

Blame it on the the Green Island. It’s Wayfarer Boy’s fault.
I never meant to do him and myself no wrong.
Apparently I will never change my bohemian ways.
The Dandy, the Noveau and the Beat. Will always remain.

My nails are red and my grandfather’s ring is still on my left ring finger.
My leather backpack will be set soon and my straw hat will mingle.
My dear Santino is downstairs, getting ready for the limbo.
While I sit back, look forward to the open road and the psychedelic bingo.