Between the cold morning and the travelling ice,
I admited to have rushed the harvest.
I rushed it, man.
And it shattered.
It fell between my foam,
I felt it almost reaching your hair,
but barely,
barely love that grew out of it.
Barely anything.
And I stood there,
building a world that never existed.
Am I wandering?
The rain leaves my grey brains coiling.
I walked the walk wisely thinking:
"Now, the scent of coffee brings the harvest back.
Am I ever going to be able to put and end to this?"
Man, let's put the harvest back
and let me love again.
1 comentarios:
Lo mismo que te puse en otra entrada, estabas esperando algo y llego otra cosa, por no dar detalles, por no ser paciente... cuantas veces no pasa eso ¿?
And I stood there,building a world that never existed. uuuufff ¡qué frase!
Publicar un comentario