Vanilla

Vanilla First time I met you in America You showed me the way to your lonely Mars Where I tumbled down, where I fall apart Would you let me call your name, Vanilla? Later you moved to Venezuela Morphing to flowers, blossom in the park I begged the sun for keeping you unharmed Would you let me climb on your stems? And pick up all your gems I’ll seed it in the sand Could be November, you’ll understand Next time we meet won’t be too long away Vanilla Are you flying alone to Florida? Storms on the radar It’s raining hard tonight I’ll be the shelter in your abandoned yard It’s last time I call your name, Vanilla I was the pilot of the shooting star I’ve been to places Now on your lonely Mars Weaving villa in the dark