Barefoot and Wild
Oh it is not the color of my skin You will never date again Foolish boy my kind comes in all hues It is my sarcastic grin Passion that erupts from with in You poor man, I was born to play blues Oh I have my books and my chores when they are done I want more My eyes were dripping with clues They have fire, they spark you should have known from the start I'd end up dancing in woods with no shoes
