When my heart looks like smothered fortress
And the time in my hands turns in sand,
When my life is about to be broken,
Then I don't really know who I am
Sometimes there are gifts I have given
And sometimes somewhat takes them away.
I don't see any logical reasons
For this kind of ridiculous game.
I wake up every morning awaiting,
Cold sweat running and tickles my skin
Am I going somewhere to discover?
Am I going to place where I've been?
And I know I can have any treasures
But there's nothing at all I can hide
Can I hold that I've found or I'll lose it?
Oh, my Lord, could you give me a sign?
When my heart looks like smothered fortress
And the time in my hands turns in sand,
When every word has been spoken,
Then I don't really know who I am...
Who am I?
© Copyright: Макс Мошников, 2004
Свидетельство о публикации №204111700076
Свидетельство о публикации №204111700076
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