Thy heaven and mine walked in quiet solitude before without emotions.
Before your arrival I was quiet empty.
When did this change?
when I started to care?
This intense agony nosaber I think to meditate.
In these cold and cloudy days,
you feel them warm and clear. Nightly
your sky and contemplate our conversations my and although the distance even want to make exceptions, can feel the emotions. among us still breathes an air of doubt, my fears haunt my immense desire to have you, deleted my hands sometimes what I would tell you. In my arms I just want Busting ..... but I remain silent because they do not begin to express yourself as .........
People looking for people And to those crying women,
Who will tell? That
are more beautiful when it rains
,
and dawn approaches,
at night on the roses, raving
by weather, and hours
past nine
And those simple men, Who
tell them? Not everything
yellow leaves with the sun,
or sentiment, which is strong brick
who does not dance with the wind,
within the heart.
And many people with dark hair,
Who will tell? That
between my dreams and your troubles,
end so tired
falling asleep convinced
drawing further, knowing that their sounds
,
are songs of the past. And these men
sad
What say? Who will tell
jokes on cold nights?.
you forget to listen, we get a phone
cysts,
you no longer wanted to fight
now live with an empty heart.
And if after all you still want to figure
listen,
looking good in the dark night.
but only when it rains,
and moisten your eyes,
looking for adventure. Put the roses
soak for nine hours have passed.
Paradise will walk again, until sunrise, to have sun, that I'm too tight. at night not so cold, a few blocks dawn sitting here, on the River. crossed so many walls, and so much hope had no place to hide, so long were their spears ... a shadow and an idea, a few hours, you go to your heaven. A couple of hours,
a shadow and an idea,
debris, other pumps,
"Amen", you say?, So be it ...
