alcoholics under the tree

there's a tree in that field 

green, lush green, cattle graze

the green

grass tall 

hoppers jump 

from one to another 

there's no chaos

only chaos is the river, a chaos of dreams

everyone wants that, no one cares though 

they say run away, run away 

why run away, don't know

all the bartenders and the alcoholics 

sit under the tree drink their old wine 

and think of their life, one tell about his life

the other and then the another, they all are chaotic 

only the bartender can make them happy 

they go wild in the evening, they walk and walk

for being an alcoholic 

a vivid colour