White Boy Blues (opal Moon)

Underneath the opal moon,
people shimmer by – they treat me like a snowman,
found inside a trashcan.
Crave white yellow and cherries brown and I dance
awhile – and treat me like a snowman, drive me like
a wildman, faror for a white boy blues.

If it’s a word, I was overwild.
Stay for a wonderful while with a suncomforted smile.
‘Cos when we kiss my heart pulsates into
a bossa nova beat – and treat me like a snowman,
drive me like a wildman faror for a white boy blues.

But mostly I sit and I sleep in a Holiday bin
with all of my friends…

There can be such music as would kill a man,
instantly,
inner objectives rule under the opal moon…
Under the opal moon : white boy blues.