Robert’s Eyes

Sitting back in a black cab
Looking around this strange living lab
Searching the truth lost in the street
In the glances, where all people meet
London City,
London is calling
Robert’s eyes, they stir up in moving
In the past, in the 80’s
There was a way of new ideas
A proud_ light of dark reflection
A wind_ blowin’ on a fiction
Robert’s eyes in a free way
Its eyes moving around
Dying in dusty ground
World is so tired anyway
No more to stay in a right life
No suffering, war atrocities
No wandering, utopian equalities
Robert’s eyes are getting rain, but no tear
London’s burning, Ian and Siouxsie don’t appear
How to be now in the twenty first?
Up or down, the better than we trust?
Walking blind in the edge of their knife?
A Forest, without trees ?
Stir up Tomorrow
Faith in atheist dream they stir up in moving…

(Dominique Oudiou)

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