If it was of that,
Of that face,
Would it not be,
Of the world that keeps the rhythm?
If the black tape,
Could be the best,
Would it not be,
The one shade better than the clown?
No matter what covers the machinery,
The frames of colors,
Beckoning the beat,
It lay waiting for the golden time.
No matter the shade,
No matter the past,
No matter the stories,
It can be put aside,
For they don't cause the rain.