Why I feel blue from my getaway
Why I feel myself so blind
Can I believe in your whispered pray
Future could be as a fine
Could be one fine
The frontier of two words cuts my mind
And parts want to fly
The things hinder all in any kind
And all thoughts start to lye
Start to lye
Thaks to all my faults, crashes and forfeits
Carry my mind above the futilities
Anchor of Mass is no longer my priority
It Remains only my dreams
Wait and hear now my whispered pray
When the soul flies around the trees
Laughs when the stars can let them stay
No more mistakes and no leaves
No more leaves