
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.

