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Nicht weinen Chérie, das gute Make-Up. |
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| Liebe ist Frankreich und Paris das bist du. |
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december '08
Sealing up the last box,
I slid it across the floor against the wall,
Moving always made me think too much,
Winter was blanketing the warm fall,
As the key turned in the lock.
Slowly I turned around,
Blinking as the silence filled the room,
I thought I had packed away all the memories,
Someone told me I packed up too soon,
But I listened for a familiar sound.
Wrapped around my knees,
My chin rests solemnly as I wander away,
Who decided things should be always saved,
Taken out on some distant rainy day,
Can someone tell me please?
My toes play with the string,
As alternative music drifts from the old stereo,
„i've been hoping and praying for a single way“ appear,
Is it a memory I hold or an unbroken wish?
My mind plays so many things.
It's time to go at last,
I hold the only key that works for me,
Life waits patiently outside the solid glass door,
And soon the passion of life I shall see,
As I turn the lock on the past.
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