Who knows how many times I've passed the gate
Who knows how many times I've closed my eyes
Who knows if I'm already dead inside
If this is only an illusion to keep my spirit alive
While my body fails to reconcile
and keeps on walking, dead or alive

I want to write pretty words
on pretty paper

Live in a pretty little house
in a pretty little village

Lie in a pretty comfy bed
next to a pretty comfy window

And look at the pretty sunset
and the pretty tree branches

Next to a nice pretty Lover
hugging me pretty nicely

Late summer evening, close to the lake.
sitting on the honey tabled bench
snacking on sweet berries,
watching the sweaty children go cannonballing
into coldening water.
A swift breeze between the trees,
a soft kiss swims through the darkening leaves
entering my eyes as a ray of light.
A quiet hymn leaving her lips,
a lullaby of our ancestors,
napping in the air and seducing me to sleep.
A warm embrace from mother nature herself,
sending her heat through the fields.
The golden grass bends in the sun
the sleeping deer releases a sigh
I look towards the sunset mountains
and breathe in my orange surroundings

I hope you're confused
I hope I've come across
are you done being amused
are you finally at a loss

Is the past beginning to spin
like it has for years with me
are you willing to risk a sin
it's not as if she'll see

Let the Word spill from your tongue
Let the World know what you've done
Let the Girl see you run
Let Me hear a little fun

Shimmering diamond
For your every little smile
Truly warms my heart

Clouds dripping towards
An endless stream of rain
Still in the valley

King of the jungle
Roaring at its fearful prey
Watching through the trees