Although we exchanged that life for another,
in the springtime we can still enjoy
the fresh wind, the weather...
The words that we shared are not lingering there.
"The little cross that you gave me,
i lost long ago"
so i don't have to bear any cargo
to the summerdays ahead.
The chain was gold - do you remember?-
or fake
but a chain is still a chain
so it's better  without it (in a way)

Looking for raw material to create happiness
I am getting used to the shortage
I am getting used to your absence
I am getting used to getting on without.

When I leave I won't take
A framed picture,  an umbrella for the rain, a memory for the road
I will just look at the road ahead and stop talking with simple future
About where i will go and who i will be
I will just say
I go
I am

We try to desperately
Hold on to what flies away
Time, Love, Smiles, Sunsets, Summers...
Until they are a vivid memory
Until we are a fading memory...