segunda-feira, abril 12, 2010

The warm days that follow my fingers lying in the night that follows,
run short with the moments we had with us lying here.
I can't forgive the times we lost with stupid things we made,
times we lost with places we had before and lost after us.
Let the night get inside your heart, let it be free with the wind in your hair.
We are not here and we will never be,
and what snaps at your head, falls down our eyes,
and with the windows all closed we set apart.
I hope I'll see you soon,
I just hope I'll see you soon.