Once and for all, at the edge of her fingers, pressing this idea of seeing again that feeling inside me. Tearing some of the fists between the roots of her lonely thoughts, you give away listening were I couldn't.
Not coming back if not, letting go, crossing this particularly quiet street, out of breath.
Staring back to be, stopping at nothing, expecting to feel anything. That last words you knew are not just a lie.
Looking for the night, right back into those days. You simply ran out of ways, searching the floor, do not step into the line. let yourself out.
In her terms, not understanding, was I ever suspended, or is it a matter of choice?
Never the better, in her loneliness she might think, in her peace she may speak, whatsoever I can always dream. When the sky finally breaks down, things will go wild, let them change.
She never ceases to surprise. her already. Do I ever get to miss you?
reversiblè.
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