A Decade of Roma Inclusion


I loved a girl once
She didn’t once love me;
everything complex is that simple

I live like the gypsies and tramps
Romantic notions that have no capital
in the bedrooms of pretty girls

Drunk like a sunburnt whore
I highway bound and hell bend
Wear my shoes out on the wings
dearly and nearly departed

My blood runs like trains through Eastern Europe
Blizzards and broken lines
don’t interrupt the motherland

Now that I’m alone, I’ve nothing to apologize for
I’ve been bending spoons with my hands,
every night just another stand

And if she says she knew me when
I’ll have the last say in our folktale
It’s better to have known and lost
then to have never been known at all


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