The muse of sadness appeared to me today
she had long hair and a white non-face...

As ancient trees our bodies rest twined to each...
In dreams where the oaks can tell our stories...

It's raining
drops that come down like the tears on my face...

Not a song, not a word, not a lie,
not a phrase to make me realize...

What you did provoked me this reaction
a contraction, seems inside distruction...

You is the destiny unknown
the sky we look above...