The colors from the past
Flash around,
They came to your house
And leave from the back side.
It sucks whatever,
The confidence on you,
It’s too important to ask,
A simple forgiveness, to you.
Then I should kill myself,
For all the lust and the anger,
And we couldn’t stay together
Not even in hell or heaven.
Bury the past,
Bury it, deep inside,
So no one can hear its screams,
So you don’t fall from your wings.
When I used to live,
I thought you were inside a cage,
But after all these years,
It’s easy to feel you made this for me.
You painted it so many colours,
You painted so many faces,
I wrote so many words,
I listened to so many phrases.
Just to built a tower for you,
And live for eternity the two of us.
But when will I kill you?
When will I stop writing letters?
Life isn’t about one people,
Life is a story on a small piece of paper.
Deep inside I know,
That I’ll see you again,
You were the best thing I got,
And the worst in many years.
lunes, junio 04, 2007
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