It has been a year not having morning dreams
Perhaps with soul of my not okay
Well, that fact that it was not spring
Red sky, quiet and cool
I go out in the alleys not a soul
Silver mist swirls around
Not on itself me in morning the silence of the
A foreign sleeping frozen capital
I don't care about sleep, I don't care about Corvalol.
I'm sick and tired of being a teenager.
I'm still with you, that's the joke.
You're still in me, you're in every cell
I'll sit on the bench, around rest
A gentle breeze stirs the leaves
I share every petal with you,
You're giving me a purple brush