First Sun of March, a sidewalk and me.

I would like to have a joint,

I would like to stop to cry but I’ve no time,

I must study.

I would like to know where the thorn is stuck and try to remove it or was that dream fault?

I would like peace and quiet,

but troubles bring me under the Sun,

bring me the Sun.

Or maybe this is one of those days in which I’m little
while mankind is too big