Imprison in my (own) prison
I look at the sky
And all I can see
Is the clouded eyes
The stars are no more
The light of time
Things were lost
Never get behind
Even if you turn
Back to the place
Nothing is the same
You left once in time
Imprison in my (own) prison
I look at the sky
And all I can see
Is the clouded eyes
Friends are forever
Stories lived not to be told
Secrets of the gathering
Is not to be unfold
Now everything is lost
Even if we can find
The gates to the track
Trails of the mind
Imprison in my (own) prison
I look at the sky
And all I can see
Is the clouded eyes
sexta-feira, 5 de setembro de 2008
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1 comentário:
We and all we saw is not always the same beauty or the same magic. The eyes are a reflection of the heart, the soul of ourselves.
If we are happy what we have seen is beautiful, if we are rough, sad or distressed beauty is difficult to find anywhere else.
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