Woke up to the tapping sound of light rain on the other side of paradise
It was, in fact, a drizzle and the world cup of football is two paces ahead
and the sleep in the eyes reserved from watching late night soccer games
makebelieve balls to goals as if a magician is calling the name of Goddesses
The fruitful Sunday, the God’s birthday is upon the stakes of daily sport bets
will there be enough ripe sweetness in the fruit soccer produces for the day?
The Church bells rang a tedious sound why is there a religion of soccer hey?
Took a walk on stopping of rain and read a magazine while fending for rice
Nothing is as hasty as the news on Politics and today’s soccer games call for
attention as to who will wear the Divine crown on a pitch of socialist Russia
Damn the war it is love that fills the minds of fans without ennui and speech
Kill the Lovejoy is a distant call of fairies in the skies who can’t see Pope lose
to a goal of Ronaldo baptized as the son of God who never is put on the cross.