You have always been the blues song for me which is never to be told. You have had a classic white car which has abondened among plum trees behind long years. Loving you is a chess game. One king, one queen… No escape from capture. We will be lying in time as long as your classic car waiting to be on the road among the plum trees. Singing blues… I have no real courage to love and be loved as the game may be simply over. Up, down, to the sides, no more places to escape from being abondened…...
The Chess Game
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