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Last summer afternoon The last summer afternoon warm rays The last smell of full of sun flowers The last breath of summery freedom Before coming back to autumn grey reality The last joylight of the laughing soul Before the beginning of the sorrow The last twinkle in your eye Before you vanish in the mist Collecting our common thoughts As the wind gathers wilted leaves I organize our mutual drawer memories |
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Grey blues At 4 in the morning blues Maybe the dream comes Perhaps in there you come Why don't I have you so close? Why do we speak by mails? When I'm singing for you - it's a summer When you will hear - will be winter Why do I wake at 4 in the morning? Trying to grasp something between the lines Only one letter in mailbox And silent sound of the night clocks I'm singing the blues at 4 in the morning So silent to hear the breath of the fly Only the kettle just going crazy And keeping my thoughts tight I touch your sadness between the lines I feel like nothing major incident I would so much be more Just drink my coffee at 4 It's five Maybe the dream comes Perhaps in there you come |
Gypsy Autumn Gypsy Autumn came to flirt Flashed of the sun between the branches Falling leaves rattled Wind spun like a colorful skirt Read the hand giving the rainbow hope Colorful dreams gave to the squirrel Whispered in the ear with the sleeping goblin And braided web over the forgotten longing And I hang on this web All my sorrows, like drops of dew And they will quietly jingled when the frost comes Until you come to take them off by the warmth of your hands |
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I'm closing the garden of our dreams I'm closing the garden of our dreams Where nothing will never flourish And in the well of wishes somewhere at the bottom Will lay the key And only wind wind wind of memories Dispels the dark thoughts And picture of you fades in the mist Before the gate which is not open anymore Last eye roll on still flourishing thoughts So common flowerbeds Where between the avenues of our words Circulated warmth of the touch of our souls. And only wind wind wind of memories Dispel the dark thoughts And picture of you fades in the mist Before the gate which is not open anymore And a little spider, my friend Softly weaves a thread of hope That one day may, however, Once for this key you want to come |
Why it hurts so much again? Why is still the same? Why good Lord, Why creating me don't You Let me breathe With someone like me Why giving me Such sensitivity Don't You think of Someone to share it with? Yes I name it Lonelity And the great Anonymity Still joust of some sexual activity Avoid of internity Open own sensuality Receiving only impassivity Why is it so material? So painful and touchable? Why to live in such desert city Full of people But without ANYONE THAT ONE Why? Good Lord Tell me why Just only that awful time |
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