If it was up to me,
I’d sing your name
As my mother tongue.
Let the sweet melody
Echo through the ears
Of old and young.
If it was up to me,
My national flag
Would be your hair.
My hand on my heart
Mumbling the anthem when
It waves through the air.
If It was up to me,
You’d stop the cursed wars
With a smile or a wink.
All the fighting cease and
The red soaked ground
Will turn into flowery pink.
If it was up to me,
The golden eyes are
The sun at noon.
Eyeliner is dusk.
And when they shut,
Here comes the moon.
If it was up to me,
You’d be the trees
The oceans, stars & clouds.
Cold summer breeze
Hitting the bale faces
Of the worshiping crowds.
If it was up to me,
You’d be the books,
Butterflies, cities & art.
Brushes of love, desire,
Madness and dreams
On my blank heart.
If it was up to me,
You’d be my miracle,
My water and wine.
The one and only wish
Of this life is that
You would be mine.
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 12:00 PM UTC
If it was up to me,
I’d sing your name
As my mother tongue.
Let the sweet melody
Echo through the ears
Of old and young.
If it was up to me,
My national flag
Would be your hair.
My hand on my heart
Mumbling the anthem when
It waves through the air.
If It was up to me,
You’d stop the cursed wars
With a smile or a wink.
All the fighting cease and
The red soaked ground
Will turn into flowery pink.
If it was up to me,
The golden eyes are
The sun at noon.
Eyeliner is dusk.
And when they shut,
Here comes the moon.
If it was up to me,
You’d be the trees
The oceans, stars & clouds.
Cold summer breeze
Hitting the bale faces
Of the worshiping crowds.
If it was up to me,
You’d be the books,
Butterflies, cities & art.
Brushes of love, desire,
Madness and dreams
On my blank heart.
If it was up to me,
You’d be my miracle,
My water and wine.
The one and only wish
Of this life is that
You would be mine.
