I can tell you what it is, that feeling
but before, I must let you know I have dusty corners that need to be fixed from floor to ceiling

now in this room there is no use in stealing
its not gradual, look in my eyes in one second if i allow it, you will know the meaning

in my hands, beneath my palms there is a pounding
as water embraces the ocean, can you feel yourself drowning

trembling I hold it out of my chest
my hands are dripping in blood, and right now I cannot tell you the rest
here we don't use words, because there is no use for them

once they told me .....
but I refuse to believe that,
although I find trouble convincing myself - no they are lies
a lingering whisper that comes to me occasionally tells me otherwise

that little girl that lingered in the open spaces
with her nerves she traces
symbolic memoirs of something fading
I went downtown just to go downtown, no reason in particular
, days like those I cherish the beauty of solitude and city lights

after I got to the mountains I blushed to myself
when they came to say hi
this isn't were I belong
do I seem like an open book
I am an open book

but only the right eyes can read its invisible words
that were written with the happiness of few things
--
and the pain of many many things

behind my words there is a calling
read between the lines, can you feel yourself falling

slowly now I feel your wounds healing
I can show you what it is, that feeling

but before I must let you know, I have dusty corners that must be fixed from floor to ceiling.