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Navigating the Southern Trains
A very nice indita I found
Who sold bouquets of flowers
Touring the train tracks
Delighted with that brunette
I bought him a bunch for me
And by putting the coin in your hands
To the formal indita I said like this
There is indita that you sell your flowers
Don't sell to anyone for god
And to the song of a hornito of troy
I had all the most beautiful flower
But time and waves back
To those directions they made me leave
I looked at the station to the indite
But instead my time I wasted
Until an old lady
My sorrows I wanted to know
I hand myself a withered bouquet
And he told me here is his mercy
The one who comes to look for is already dead
And when I split this bouquet I leave
He hands it to the passenger
That in my life was my only love
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