My melancholy morning
Mourning
Cuts on my finger tips
They taste like childhood.
Day after after day
I sense my stay
And I wonder where else could I be
And I wander looking for nothing to be sought
Tumbling down
A brand new life which smells like past
Bite by bite, piece by piece
On the land, on the water
Wherever I could cast my shadow.
Nessun commento:
Posta un commento