una mosca

 There is a fly

In the lamp

of a house

that has a pictures

of a boy

that no one knew.

 

A lamp keeps

rocking by

in between

laughter and sorrow

 

and the fly

is sitting there

watching us

dimming the lights

 

there’s a fly

in the lamp

in the ceiling of

a house that has 

a picture

of a boy

that no one 

knew.

 

And the thing

flies around

without fuzzing 

to and fro

 

bothering nobody

aware of 

our peculiar way

of just being there

 

…

In a room

with a lamp

to sing and stare

a place to wait

 

Oh, and I

would like to say

to the fly

that stares away

 

That the world

will not fall down

that the music

never stops

 

But instead

we drink our tea

and go away

to walk the streets

 

And the fly

Oh, the fly

Will remain…

 

And the fly 

Is just a fly

Sitting in the lamp

 

Terrified of flying

Terrified to sing

Terrified to bother

 

And the fly 

Oh the fly

 

the fly 

oh the fly

will remain…