My realite

I close my eyes and see the island

I am in the jungles, free and riant

And I am promised to be there

It isn’t mine realite

The bird is singing on my shoulder

I beg I ask from my Molder

To make it real, to wrap and care

It isn’t mine realite

CH

I am in the temple, children laughting

And Christ has come, all people bathing

In sun and joy and all but fair

It isn’t mine realite

I am in the train to Oskanazis

And rocket flies to this oasis

And I have Pocahontas hair

It isn’t my realite

CH

I am on  my marriage, people smiling

And vine is poured, sounds golden violin

My husband dancing  here and there

It isn’t my realite

I stand in front of Jesus icon

And do confess of all the my cons

I beg to change my own vitae

And make my own realite.