Drop after drop
My blood flies away;
And when my heart finally stop
Only dust will remain.
Clouds with a shape of sorrow
And sorrows with a taste of scars;
A heart to feel you can't just borrow -
This will be just an ordinary farce.
A spirit I saw on the sylvan pathway -
A silent shadow flying close the lake;
And on the last light of this day
My final breath is hers to take.
When my heart finally stop
Only dust will remain -
Drop after drop
My blood flies away.
© Peter Wolf Всички права запазени