|
|
 |
|
|
| Malamas- To gramma |
 |
I don't want anymore to think the same all
the time
Like it was all lies, ashes and leftovers
I want open windows so that air will blow me
To empty my mind and and have the Time in my
side
I do not want you anymore to speak for those
whose that we have lived
The world won't be lost if the pane breaks
I want you to come and find me, sit here and
talk
How we feel so furor
How we live thus incuriously
I do not want you to grieve on Sunday
evenings
Without this darkness the years remain empty
I want you to leave so that you can be saved
, to stop arguing
Forget in the way who you were and how you
resemble
Thus I will love you much and I will see you
little
Like a woman distant
That I loved before I left
I do not want you to grieve on Sunday
evenings
Without this darkness the years remain empty
Tags : malamas gramma meneksedia |
|
Affichage : 109887
Durée : 171 s |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
| |
|
