My words
Cuts without a knife
On my mind you should drive
Behind window is night
Behind window is dawn
And my words should be gone
Next to night, next to sleep
Trace from words burns your lip
I am sowing wild seed
They are taken by wind
Somewhere far on your land
You get up from cold bed
Close your window from warmth
You're afraid windy storm
Quiet wind with my seed
Don't bring dangerous weed
It just want to touch you
Very softly by view
Свидетельство о публикации №113012303577