文学艺术

  A Perfect Indian
sing by Sinead O'Cornner
A Perfect Indian is he
Remembering him life is sweet
Like a weeping willow
His face on my pillow
Comes to me still in my dreams
And there I saw a young baby
A beautiful daughter was she
A face from a painting
Red cheeks and teeth aching
Her eyes like a wild Irish sea
On a table in her yellow dress
For a photograph feigned happiness
Why in my life is that the only time
That any of you will smile at me
I'm sailing on this terrible ocean
I've come for my self to retrieve
Too long have I been feeling like Lir's children
And there's only one way to be free
He's shy and he speaks quietly
He's gentle and he seems to me
Like the elf-arrow
His face worn and harrowed
Is he a daydreamer like me

  手机响了，可安子没有马上按下接听键而是点上一根烟继续发呆，面对潺潺的溪流，任谁也难逃岁月被遗忘的宿命。

  安子，在哪呢？兄弟几个就缺你了，抓紧时间赶过来。按下接听键就听到佳佳在电话里吼道，仿佛看到了哥几个光着膀子在大排档拼啤酒，想到这里笑容顿时花了脸。

  安子，来来里面座。贾宝看到我后夸张地来个门童式鞠躬。

  兄弟你晚了，老规矩罚三杯。说着佳佳倒了三杯白酒，一次摆在安子面前。

  我说你们几个这么不讲究啊，不知道我有胃炎啊！看着面前满满的三杯安子苦着脸笑道。

  呵呵，安子哥几个今天高考结束了，他妈的终于逃离苦海了不好好放松一下怎么对得起自己啊！

  你他妈就贫吧!

  看着祥子奸诈的脸，安子笑着闷了三杯白酒。