Who's coming and who's gone From the distance the clouds start to blush. The cold wind began to embrace the bodies in this fatigued and tired body. Everyone carries his own world in his hands. Whereas my world is left in your bedroom. the sound
many stories are accommodated in one eye. At a question mark I found a thousand piercing answers. What afternoon is always this cherry .. Trains come and go with earthquakes and rumblings. While I was coming and going carrying a full wound. without your grip