Today I looked down from my rooftop
Tonight I will burn letters
Stones in my hands
That are guarding our world
They are not the same thing.
I could have written an epos
But why risk my camouflage,
Could have taken canvas and brushes
But it wouldn't change a thing
Could have taken a step backwards
But that's not what I need.
No that's not what I need
It's just our dance on the edge of spring.
I can see your shore, but what is this shining in bushes
I've seen something similar in one of the video films.
I know your voice better than my own,
But I want to know "Who's talking to me"
I could remain alive
But that's not my inclination.
I could confess my love
But does it change anything?
And would you really want me to do it?
It's just our dance on the edge of spring.
