I have come after a hot day joy
I came rolling on my weak feet
My eyes red and in deep distress
The gold ball, just waiting at home
After a long tiring gain at work,
I dream of my gold back home
I loose my neck rope so weakly
Can't wait just to wash my hands
I sit down on a low kitchen stool
For I love it best in the cooking pot
My hands searching through my pocket
Never call me now, for I'll not answer
I make a cut to fill my palm
I roll it up to become a ball
Sitting back, i take a deep breath.
Closing my eyes, i feel the fun.