Description
Someone has told me that solitude hides behind your eyes
And that your blouse chokes feelings, that you breath
You have to understand that I didn't put your fears
Where they are stored
And that I will not be able to take them away from you
If in doing so you rip me up
I don't want to dream the same things a thousand times
Nor to contemplate them wisely
I want you to treat me softly
You behave yourself in accordance
To whatever each moment dictates for you
And that inconsistency is not something heroic
But rather something sick
I don't want to dream the same things a thousand times
Nor to contemplate them wisely
I want you to treat me softly
Softly, softly, softly...
