Lletres: Banish (The). Other. Death At The Afternoon.

If you want me to turn the green white
If you want
me to turn the vert milky
Don?t you forget to lend me your can of ice cold and
distilled and clear water
I prefer uncaramelized lump sugar but everyone?s
taste is so different from mine
And you will experience ? like the grand old
masters of art ? what?s good

You can sniff some nice piece out
Well, sure,
of bygone times
Approach the mixture of sparkling wine
The Hemingway you
perpetrate
A revelation, as warm as welfare

So where?s my mind?
Where?s
the time or the place to act by heart?
I don?t know and I won?t
I just want
my fay, my fay, my smooth and vert fay

With her everything?s so clear
I
don?t know any fear
O, I want her so near
?Cause a nip dries every tear


Time, it?s time, so where is my clock?
Time, it?s time, knock, knock,
knock!
Now it?s time to set myself hot on fire
Now it?s time to set myself
hot on fire

There?s a postcard: a dog sitting on a table
? 9 ? 8 ? 7 ?

Next to it the bottle of green ? it?s floored
? 6 ? 5 ? 4 ?
Two words in
the right corner, saying: ?Home alone?
? 3 ? 2 ? 1 ?
A dog, its master is
gone, and now it is
? ZE ? RO ?