I want to go somewhere where there is no end . Let no man's laws  separate me from of dreaming, where your shadow play with mine . Let me be part of your pages . I'll wait for love is my religion . I'll wait until the children are laughing and while the fire is burning . Where are you? Are to you my destiny leads? . Is it all a game ? While talking to my soul, I wonder when the luck disappeared, hurts like a bite from a dog . Looking for you in  this idol of god of the desert. Looking for you  on the streets of Prague, disappointed as Desdemona.... Waiting to ride and glade with you, wild at heart as the Sioux . I want my skin to dance to the rhythm of your fingers . I have one last chance to redeem myself . I looked into the turquoise sky, perhaps in one of those planes you really are . Darkness had descended on the house of my grandfather. No one  lives there no more but when clock strikes midnight remorseful read the letters hidden in the silver chest . Your love has shone as a reflection of old jewelry . I'm your lady with the blue hat . Nice and cold as an ice cube in champagne . There's so much I want to tell you , I gotta find a way .

My name is Vesna and I want to share a story.  I was 17 when the aggression started in my home. The so-called "Angel of Mercy" was burning Serbia almost 100 days.  I remember my dad out of the house after he listened to the news and said all in fear " it began."  I was too young to understand what this means .. One night we heard the gruesome crash and the earth shook like a earthquake,  volume 3, we saw a red sky .. then again  .. house shook, my house where I grew up.  My dad covered me in the case that windows tours and cut as down.  We stood
in the middle of the yard because it was safer that way and we all had a great big hug  ... mom, dad, sister and me .. I started screaming and I remember the sister slapped me several times that I would not lose consciousness in panic.  Of course that we partially forgiven but whether we forget ?  We do not know.  I only pray that it never happens again.

If you ever come to my town,  pass through the streets where I walked. Breathe the air that caressed my lips. Talk to people who mean something in my life. Looking for me in the park where our youthful days asleep. Remember the secret kiss and unfulfilled promises.