| The Garden |
| | Behind shadows, behind fingers
I´m hiding my true passion
To be, to be alone
In my garden,
in its corners
I´m looking for the path of my thoughts in the dark
Open the gate, it´s the rigth time
Let the wind makes a ring the trees
Let the shadows move on the ways
I´m entering the tomb of tales
Here you find revived puppets
One of them is you
I´m coming to everyone like the trees and feelings
Here you find - maybe yourself
Behind shadows, behind fingers
I´m hiding my true passion
To be, to be alone
In my garden,
in its corners
I´m looking for the path of my thoughts in the dark
|
| |
