Vanilla

First time I met you in America

You showed me the way to your lonely Mars

Where I tumbled down, where I fall apart

Would you let me call your name, Vanilla?

Later you moved to Venezuela

Morphing to flowers, blossom in the park

I begged the sun for keeping you unharmed

Would you let me climb on your stems?

And pick up all your gems

I’ll seed it in the sand

Could be November, you’ll understand

Next time we meet won’t be too long away

Vanilla

Are you flying alone to Florida?

Storms on the radar

It’s raining hard tonight

I’ll be the shelter in your abandoned yard

It’s last time I call your name, Vanilla

I was the pilot of the shooting star

I’ve been to places

Now on your lonely Mars

Weaving villa in the dark