what will tomorrow bring I don't know,
I hope that the chaos that surrounds me, end.
When I open windows of my home
I just want to be somewhere but not here,
the olive bench or the pink sunset,
the broken armchair or the white mirror,
I might live my dream from tomorrow,
or I might change my dream tomorrow.

A Sunday market,
with ticking clocks or beautiful necklaces hanging down.
A city known or unknown,
all places can be home
if only I can act like I'm a portrait
of a girl sitting down on her bed,
with no chaos that surrounds her,
just waiting for tomorrow to begin again.