Ghost
Golden dust upon your skin
Let's paint the blue sky all in black
Life must be a strange cool thing
Where do we have to go to die?
Stop dreaming - we lose the ground
Stop wanting me - and bring it down
Stop praying - we'll die for sure
Stop loving me - and close the door
"...watching bended trees at night
Don't know when it's time to leave
Stop the avalanche by hand
Keep your tears in rusty sieves...
The smell of all the years we've lost
Hiding in this old man's chair
You'll die beside me while I'll dream...
Everything will disappear..."
Flaps of skin upon your lips
So close to my broken neck
Your trembling voice is
Whispering "I'm not happy
But you're sad..."