Who told you it was a lie

staring at my wounds

with your puffy eyes

cos waiting too long

in an empty room

falling asleep like no other choice

lettin me touchin your skin

again and again

three thousands kisses on your two greens eyes

i would say i ll never leave this bed again

sleepin on and off

sipin cold tea left on a busy table

maybe you knew how releaved i felt

the first time you came

from my own hand

the laugh we had till the end

i expect myself looking at the window

the bus dragging me away from you

looking for around me

cold leather seat

someone heartblowing

crusty hair, bach debussy

or satie crawling under my skin

month or year later, alexander bridge

wandering in prague

closely ears sharp seeking a guitar

a lovely punk behind

my teeth always brushed

it might be you