A man of words and not of deeds Is like a garden full of weeds, And when the weeds begin to grow, It’s like a garden full of snow. And when the snow begins to fall, It’s like a bird upon the wall, And when the bird away does fly, It’s like an eagle in the sky. And when the sky begins to roar, It’s like a lion at the door. And when the door begins to crack, It’s like a stick across your back, And when your back begins to smart, It’s like a penknife in your heart, And when your heart begins to bleed, You’re dead, you’re dead, you’re dead indeed.

Nav komentāru: