If my hands weren't there like I saw in a stream Of the drawings been made of a full colour screen If they weren't to be found Than what else could I be? If your hands weren't there like I saw in my dreams And the poets we made had all gone, disappeared Than what else, than what else could I be? If your hands and my hands strolled together around If they were to make friends we'd be possibly up To escape from this world, from this no past land If I looked in the windows while walking pass through If I stared at the willows with my seven black truths If my eyes were to see what belongs to your mind If you'd like keep perceiving what lies on my back And your eyes will shine through the glass of my wine And the willows, the windows, the pillows and your mouth If your hands and my hands strolled together around If they were to make friends we'd be possibly up To escape from this world, from this no past landTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
