In a myriad of apple trees, I'm astray in the mist. Just walking, continually following the rational thought. That walking straight ahead would let me see the sky some time. Stride by stride by stride. Nothing urges me apart from the non-existence of the
answer to the question, what I should do otherwise. The mist surges through the trees and evokes a scene before my very eyes. Dancing steps in a last and red sunlight. The sun is falling in the sea like leaves, departing from a tree. A connection: When you can't sleep
it's because you're awake in my dreams. The smell of a mist-strouded morning lets me re-experience the moments, limpid like glass. We used to know each other long time ago. I left and now the face is pale and sallow in my memory, just like the sun. Just like the sun
beyond the mist. Continually I'm just walking. Just like the sun. Nothing leads me but the non-existence of an answer to the question, where I should go otherwise.

---

Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.